The Hollow's Child
by Soy
Summary: DH/post-DH, mid book AU. NEW SUMMARY: Hermione had Harry's child and gave him up for adoption. Years later, Rose Weasley-Granger tries to make a place for herself in the world and uncovers a dangerous secret. Final chapter and epilogue now up!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Hollow's Child**  
Author:** Soy**  
Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.**  
Synopsis:** DH, mid book AU. Sort of, I tried to blend it? Hermione had sensed it, that night, in Godric's Hollow, that it was meant to happen. And now there had to be consequences.

**Chapter 1**

They promised not to talk about it. And she believed him, because why would he say anything? He would be just as hurt, just as ruined if the truth came out as she would. And so she trusted him, and knew she always could trust him. For as long as they both shall live.

****

That night, in Godric's Hollow, she'd known what would happen. She couldn't say why, exactly, but she'd felt it, deep in her bones, just as Harry always explained things, feelings, instincts, what was right seemed obvious. It was natural. It was assumed. And though neither of them had ever considered the possibility before – or after – there was nothing wrong about sensing it right then. As they leaned into the fence blocking them from the graffiti covered plaque, she took Harry's hand and felt the deepest longing she had ever known. To comfort him. To reassure him. To, it was odd that this was what she had felt, but she had, and there was no changing that now, to be one with him.

The attack at Bathilda's house had been a shock, but nursing him back to health afterwards felt natural. And telling him about his wand – she hadn't meant to break it, she really hadn't, and for the months when they believed the snap irreparable she had felt miserable and guilty the whole time – was not pleasurable by a long shot, but it had not felt unexpected either. And when, after she told him, he cried, and screamed, and bargained until she reached out to grab his hands, to tell him, again, that she was sorry but there was nothing she could do, when she felt his hands, that was when she knew again. The same feeling of assuredness that had struck her so hard at that old, half exploded house in Godric's Hollow overcame her again and before she knew it, she was reaching forward to brush the tears off Harry's cheek, and he was holding her hand tighter, squeezing it, making it hurt, and she opened her mouth to tell him that she could feel bruises forming, but he stopped her before she could talk. His mouth, unsure of itself, was half-pressed against her open lips. He was waiting for her to either return the pressure or pull away and she looked with open eyes at Harry's cheek and left eye, closer than she had ever seen them. She tasted his tears. She remembered him describing his kiss with Cho Chang – only two years before though it felt like centuries ago – as being wet. Yes, she thought, probably like this. And salty too. And warmer than she expected. And not as soft as she would have thought. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, returning this strange kiss. She found his tongue with hers. It felt slimy, not altogether pleasant, and tasted vaguely of copper, some blood must still remain from his injuries, though she'd tried to heal them. His hand clumsily found her side and pulled her closer and inched its way underneath the hem of her jumper. His skin startled hers. Every touch, every careful finger just barely grazing higher than the last as he cautiously attacked her torso, tickled her, made her acutely aware of never having been touched this way before.

Back in the fourth year – eons ago – she had let Viktor Krum kiss her like this in the library sometimes. Because she was upset with Ron without realizing that was why she felt unsteady. It was before she had known, of course, that Ron could set her off. And Viktor, he must not have known or must not have cared that he was only a diversion from her true feelings, he had kissed her and touched her as much as she let him. Which wasn't much. Only one time did his hand, not fumbling like Harry's, ever make its way underneath her pleated Gryffindor skirt. She still remembered the surprise of feeling his hand, of it circumventing her cotton panties, of his fingers probing further before she reached out pushed away from him, stopping it all. She had not gone back to the library with him after that.

Kissing Harry was very different than kissing Viktor. Viktor had always been very precise, knowing exactly how his body and her body were moving. Harry seemed to be just guessing at everything – his one hand failed again at unclasping her bra and his other hand reached up to join in the quest – and she did not mind this. It comforted her to think her friend was just as naïve, if not more so, than she.

"Here," she said, reaching her own hands behind her back and, even though she was working above the layers of shirts while he had the advantage of being below, unsnapping her bra. It was the first word either had spoken in nearly twenty minutes and as soon as she spoke it she regretted it. Words somehow made this real. Her word, however, did not stay real for long, and as Harry found her breasts it was as if she had never spoken at all. "Here," was an echo from her imagination, maybe. Surely she could not remember opening her mouth, not remember instructing anything before, nothing at all could have come before this moment, right now, his hot fingers gently circling her nipples. Everything felt new. His mouth, still against hers, still shifting, this way and that, lips, chapped from the cold and the blood of his injuries, the pressure of his kiss against her lips, it all felt new and old and destined all at the same time.

Her right hand held his head, kept him against her, while her left hand wandered down to the button of his pants. Briefly fitting her hand in between the tight gap between his pants and his skin she pulled it out again to focus on the button, then the zipper, then pulling, one handed, the pants down entirely to reveal a pair of worn green boxers. She reached and grabbed with both her hands now, feeling firmness where she had not expected it, as his hand undid her belt and she could almost hear him moaning and the moaning almost sounded like a name, not her own, but she did not pay attention to it. Instead her mind, which had been blank and accepting just a second ago, now raced to list the consequences. What was she doing? She didn't love Harry, not like this. He was a friend, her best friend, who had seen her through every trouble she'd ever had. She loved Ron. Deeply. She knew it. Deep in her heart she knew he loved her too, and that one day they would marry and have children, she knew it, could sense it, was sure of it. And Harry was not Ron. And above all these heady questions of love and friendship and where lines should be drawn were the practical dilemmas she now faced. They didn't have any protection. None of the Muggle contraceptives her mother had coached her on were in anyway graspable now and she had never listened – she cursed herself now for it – to Lavender and Parvati's prattle about birth control spells. She was not the kind of girl who did this, who blindly jumped into sex, who allowed her pants to be pulled down around her ankles and then pulled off entirely while she prostrated herself on the small camp bed and eased this boy into her. But none of the practicals mattered right now. This felt right, and natural, and right now she wanted nothing more in this world – because this world did not exist beyond each new second – than to feel Harry Potter deep inside her, to feel him thrust against her, slowly and awkwardly at first, and then faster, and she ached, she hurt, but she did not say so, she did not scream, because the pain felt good right now, his weight on top of her, his barely sprouted scratchy beard, his cuts, his bruises, his scars, she wanted all of him right now and right now she had all of him inside her, again and again, in and out, pulling her forward and back until she felt herself constricting, grasping, pulling him even closer, her fingernails digging into his skin and he arching his back and letting out a crude, low grunt. And then he fell, his breathing labored, like hers, on top of her. They were sweaty and cold and his hair, disheveled as ever, stuck to her skin. She reached up a hand and brushed his hair away from his eyes, off of his forehead. He was panting, and crying, like a child in her arms, she felt grown all of a sudden. This sticky mess they lay in did not bother her now, as she mothered the feeble Harry Potter who pressed himself against her cheek, breathing heavy, and weeping. She touched the spot below his collar bone where the horcrux had burned him and he did not shiver, so she traced one finger around the burn, then moved it up, over his neck, his chin, his lips, his cheeks, before gently touching his unflinching eyelids. She touched his eyebrows, then brushed away the hair again – it kept falling right back into place – and touched his scar, that scar which had caused him so much trouble. She outlined it with her finger. And he cried in her arms.

****

He woke first, must've been in the early morning, with the sky still black, because by the time she woke up, with daylight only just breaking, he was outside, keeping watching, her wand lit in his hands as he surveyed their surroundings. She joined him outside, asked him if he wanted breakfast – she could go try to find something – or if he wanted to move locations – it would be time soon – but he just shook his head and told her to go back to sleep, he'd stay on the lookout. And she'd gone back into the tent, washed herself as best she could, and climbed into her clean, un-slept-in cot.

When it was finally her turn to keep guard she merely took her wand from Harry, they chatted for a moment about moving on tomorrow, and then he went inside to sleep. They did not talk about what had happened. It had become, already, an unspoken event. As if it had always already happened, always been inevitable, and always been the deepest secret they would keep between them.

****

She was not unhappy when Ron returned. She was angry, of course, both at him and at herself, because she had not been able to keep him with her in the first place, but she was pleased that he had returned, relieved to know he was still all in one piece. She did not show this relief, though, because what first popped into her head when she was awoken by the sopping wet and shivering Ron was not what problems he had recently encountered, but rather what had transpired in his absence. She was upset, not just with him, but with the entire situation. How dare he leave them, her. And how dare he return and assume that everything would be has it had been when he left.

Harry filled her in, on his adventure, the silver doe, the lake, the sword, and Ron's miraculous appearance. He even told her, when Ron was asleep that night, smiling in his bed now that he was back with his friends, about what had lived inside the horcrux, how it had known about he and she and what has transpired between them. Of course time had passed since then, and with every second their misstep had sunken further into myth, something not real, not something she had done, and it seemed impossible that it had ever happened at all by the time Ron appeared. And so they acted as if it never had.

Ron asked her, several times, what was the matter. He had apologized, he apologized every time she let on she was listening to him. She always glowered at him, unhappy not with him but with herself and her own weakness. Though could it have been weak if it had felt so natural and if it had never happened again? It seemed more something that had been fated – not that she believed in fate, not that she would ever wield it as an excuse – than something that was wrong. Still, the whole ordeal upset every part of her, and when she looked at Ron those first months after his return, it made her nauseous. Many times she found herself escaping the bounds of their protective force fields and running off into the woods just to be alone, just so she could kneel before a tree and allow her whole body to wretch, letting all of her ill feelings spew from her. Wiping her mouth, performing a simple clean breath charm, she would return to their tent and try to act as if she was her usual self, entirely stable and assured.

****

In Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix Lestrange in front of her, wand poised, she watched as Harry and Ron disappeared down stairs leading to she didn't know what, a dungeon or a torture chamber perhaps.

She barely heard the curse uttered before she felt pain worse than any she'd known ripple through her body, tearing it apart, wrenching her brain from her spine, from her arms, from her legs. She screamed, she knew. And she clutched herself. She held fast to her stomach, arms wrapped firmly around herself.

She did not remember the pain ending, and was not entirely aware when Harry appeared, in front of her, cursing her attackers, taking their wands, and then a tiny, cold hand gripped one of the arms that was still locked around her stomach and then she felt herself disappearing and when she woke up for good she was in an entirely new place. Bill Weasley was standing above her, she was barely aware, and Fleur was offering a cup of tea. She took it, the porcelain of the cup hot against her hands, and she took a big, burning gulp just to remind her that she was alive. And she thought, as the felt the liquid scald its way down her esophagus and into her belly, she felt her stomach kick back a little at the heat. Maybe it was just glad, because she was, to be alive.

****

She leapt at Ron. Not only because she was elated that he remembered her fight against the plight of house elves, because he had seemingly been won over to her side, but also because it might be her very last chance to embrace him. Outside the Room of Requirement, aware of death chasing them, of their narrow escape just now and of all they would soon face, she leapt at Ron when he made one of the thousands of comments he made just to please her. And this time she admitted that he pleased her. In an hour, in five minutes, they might all be dead, but right now, she grabbed at Ronald Weasley, clung to him, her mouth finding his. He tasted like cut grass and clean laundry, warm and soft, exactly as she'd imagined, all these years, exactly as she'd hoped. She loved Ron. She loved him with all of herself. Her loved shook her body and made her cling harder to him and he grabbed onto her fiercely. His hands explored her hair. His mouth welcomed hers. He loved her too. He had always loved her. Even before he'd known it. Even before she'd known it. They were meant for each other.

Harry was screaming at them to separate. There was a war going on. His face looked pale.

****

When she realized it was really over, that they'd really won, she half couldn't believe it. She expected the conquered to rally their forces around some new hero. She expected Voldemort to rise from where he lay, vacant, more frightful than ever. But that didn't happen. Instead, Harry pulled her and Ron away from the crowds, caught between celebrating and mourning, and led them upstairs, away from the confused revelry.

He explained to them, what had happened to him in the forest. They nodded along with his story, taking in every word, their hands clasped together the entire time. She caught him eyeing their hands, watching their connection, as he recounted the night's events. As soon as he finished speaking he left them alone, to digest, he said, but really, so that they could be alone, together, for the first time, really. Ron hugged her, close. She hugged him back. He kissed her. She kissed him back. She loved kissing him, she loved everything about him. It was so easy, with Ron. So easy, and nice. His lips the softest she had ever felt, his hands gentle but firm as they found her skin, touched every inch of her, alone in that empty classroom, she and Ron found each other completely and their bodies confessed everything to each other. Almost everything.

Lying on the cold stone floor of the classroom, Ron's warm arms around her, a general air of content surrounding them, she felt her stomach kick once more.

"My parents," she said, simply.

"What about them?" Asked Ron.

"I have to go find them-"

"Sure, but not right now," Ron kissed her again. His hands were worming their way up her naked thighs.

"Soon," she said, giving in to the moment, "I have to find them soon."

"Uh huh," said Ron, and he kissed her again as he rolled on top of her once more, his lean, long body covering hers completely, her feet rising from where they lay around his knees to wrap around his torso. Ron laughed his hearty carefree laugh into her as he kissed her and she felt it reverberate through her. She wanted to laugh too. How badly she wanted to laugh. Instead she kissed him back and tightened her legs' grip around him.

****

When she left for Australia she was already wearing loose clothing. It was all in her head, she was sure, the weight she now carried around her belly. She had not eaten properly in months, and despite a few good feasts with the Weasley's, she knew she could not possibly have put on this weight from indulging in cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs. She looked as lean as ever, perhaps gaunter from the months of deprivation, but she felt much different, heavier, around her midsection, and so she'd taken to wearing the loose t-shirts to cover up her anxiety.

Harry and Ron both came to the airport with her. Ron kissed her goodbye before she passed through security. He even whispered something in her ear, a plea to return soon, before he let her go.

But she didn't know when she'd be back, she told them, it might take months. Her parents could be anywhere. Australia was a large continent. And no, she couldn't use spells to find them, because she'd made them untraceable. Her own fault, really. But worth it, if they'd been kept safe.

So she kissed Ron goodbye at security. He'd run his hands through her hair one last time before letting his left hand stray and pat her playfully on the bum. She would have scolded him, even in jest, any other time, but now she just felt lonely, aching for him already, missing him though he stood before her.

When she and Ron separated she turned to Harry. Together, reaching at the same time, they hugged each other. He patted her on the back, three times, firmly.

"You stay safe now, you hear?"

She saw his smile, the twinkle in those green eyes, as they separated. He was her best friend, truly.

"It's you two who I should be worrying about. No trouble, while I'm gone, alright?" She turned her head from one to the other, trying to give a stern look. "Don't start anymore revolutions or fight anymore enemies without me-"

"Hey," Ron interrupted, "Can't help it if evil's afoot, can we?"

She lunged at him and squeezed him tightly.

"Oi, Hermione, really now, I promise, no trouble while you're gone-"

She released him and coaxed herself to smile as she looked him in the eyes. A moment later she moved past them, to the man checking boarding passes and passports. As the man examined her documents, she took a final glance back at Ron and Harry, her two boys, standing shoulder to shoulder, smiling and waving, before the security guard handed her back her papers and waved her on.

****

It was no trouble finding her parents. Though she'd preferred not to know where they'd gone and so sent them blindly to the foreign continent, once there, she had sensed immediately where they were. She showed up on their doorstop, her heart breaking a little as her mother looked at her as if she were an Avon saleswoman, and quickly performed the charms to revive their memory. Before she knew it, they were embracing her in the family hug she had longed for, and pledging to move back to England as soon as could be arranged. But, no, she told them, she wanted to stay here a bit longer. They looked at her oddly. Her mother sensed it first, maternal instinct, or a bit of magic left somewhere deep in the genes perhaps, and knew, almost immediately why Hermione wished to stay in this foreign place. Four months, no longer, she was sure it would be over by then. She could not do anything sooner to… get rid… of this problem. It was not a problem, really. An obstacle which she must face before claiming the life she'd always wanted, but not an insurmountable one. Four months and this would all be over. Four months in Australia. She could always pass it off, if anyone ever asked, as four months spent trying to locate her parents, whom she had sent here, in desperation, a year before. Now they doted on her, regretful that they'd abandoned her (though they'd had no choice or say in the matter) and eager now to comfort her in any way she needed. Her mother only ever asked her once about it, hinting that maybe wizards lived their lives differently, that they did not believe in the women going on to university and then to successful careers. Hermione reassured her mother that wizards, though they mated earlier in life, did in fact believe that women should work. She had just… been caught up… in a moment… And her mother asked no more questions. Not even to discover who the father was. She was grateful.

****

The Muggle hospital was clean and bright and fairly non-judgmental when she was wheeled into it, her water already broken and contractions already coming at an even pace. Her body rippled with pain and she was reminded of that dark moment, months before, of Bellatrix and the torture she had survived at her hand. This was not altogether different than that. Just milder, slightly, or at least, spaced apart and not consistent. She would remember that. A bit of wisdom to pass onto witches who almost never gave birth without pain relieving charms anymore. They were lucky. It took Hermione a full two hours before one young doctor was willing to administer an epidural. She clenched her eyes shut as the needle punctured through her back to her spine and felt an immediate release and relief as the tension of her body eased. Her mother stood beside her, holding her hand, coaching her with encouraging phrases. Her father, never entirely approving, was out pacing in the waiting room, she knew, too kind to fully keep his distance.

After four more hours, the delivery began and Hermione pushed when she was told to and breathed heavy because she had to and her mind floated away to where it would rather be, because she wanted it to. And before she knew there was the sound of a baby screaming, and her mother was crying and hugging her, and she was laying back, against the pillows, crying, while the nurses and doctor busied themselves with something in the corner of the room. They brought her child up to her.

"A healthy baby boy," the doctor said proudly. "Would you like to hold him?"

Hermione looked at the child. Dark hair, all a mess. Green, glowing eyes. Barely any of her in it at all. Maybe her nose, if she squinted just right, but it was hard to really say.

She was aware of having taken too long to answer a simple question.

"Yes, please, let me see him." She accepted the child, scooped him up in her arms, and loved him instantly. He was beautiful, up close, so perfect. Bright, bright green eyes. She moved her hand through his already thick hair. Her mother leaned into her.

"He's perfect," she said, already a grandmother, fussing with his hair.

"Have you a name picked out?" Asked a nurse, paperwork in her hands.

"No," said Hermione, her eyes not wanting to come off her new son, "none."

"That's alright," said the nurse, "A lot of mothers, takes them a long time to decide, you don't have to say right now-"

"No," interrupted Hermione, because she felt she must, "I'm going to give him up for adoption. I don't feel right naming him. I want his parents to do that."

With one finger she felt her son's soft cheek. She may have imagined it, but she imagined him smiling as she touched his face. She stroked his cheek again to see if she would get the same reaction. Again, she thought she might have seen a smile. She loved this baby, her baby, her son. She loved him so much. It felt inevitable.

"Oh," the nurse was examining her paperwork, "We don't have that down anywhere here-"

"A private adoption." Concluded Hermione. A wizarding family. A wizarding adoption agency. It would all be worked out within a week. She wouldn't even meet the new parents. She had asked not to. At the same time the agency handed her son over to them, she would be on a plane back to England.

The nurse, still looking quizzical, must have sensed something, Hermione must have been radiating something, and so the nurse walked away, satisfied for now. Hermione turned her attention back to the baby in her arms. A sweet little boy, all bundled in the hospital's blue blankets, tightly bound in his secure little cocoon. Suddenly his right arm broke free of its blanket bindings. Hermione laughed, at first, at her son's boldness, but as she reached to tuck his arm back into its warm security, she noticed something she hadn't before. On her son's chest, just above where his tiny heart must be, was an angry red blotch.

"Just a birthmark," her mother informed her, "Strawberry mark. Used to say they were kisses from angels. Lots of babies have them. It'll fade."

Hermione was not so sure. The deep red spot was exactly where Harry's burn had been, after the horcrux, fighting with Voldemort that night in Godric's Hollow, had scarred him. A coincidence, maybe, that her son should bare the same mark in the same place, if she believed in coincidences anymore, which she was almost positive she didn't.

"Sweet little thing," her mother grabbed her son's loose arm and tucked it back into the blankets. "Sweet little baby boy."

****

A week later, Hermione was back at the Burrow. Her parents, safe, were busy reestablishing their dental practice in central London. Right before their plane had taken off, as they were sitting in their seats, Hermione had reached over and, quite scandalously – if she had been caught, and she could easily have been caught – once more performed an obliviate charm upon them. She made them forget about their grandchild, that pretty baby who was just now finding himself in the arms of a sweet wizarding couple she herself had hand selected. The agency had told Hermione that the couple had promised to name the baby after the wife's father, who they had just recently lost. Hermione, curious to know what her son would be called, asked what the wife's father's name had been. Tom, she was told. Thomas, in full, of course, but they intended to call him Tom. Tom, her baby would be called now. Tom. Of all names. Still, the parents could not be blamed for their family name and Hermione had relinquished the baby. He would have a better life here, with parents who loved him, who had always wanted a child of their own.

She imagined her baby in the arms of his new parents as she sat on the plane bound for Gatwick, her parents, blank eyed next her, awaiting her instructions to remember their lives.

"I found you here," she coached them. "It took awhile, but I found you, and right after I found you, we booked this trip, and now we're going home again."

"Home," her mother echoed.

Yes, home, Hermione thought. Home, to London, then to the Burrow, to Ron, to Harry and Ginny and all the Weasleys, but mainly, to Ron. Her Ron. Who could be all hers now. Ron.

****

It was a rainy night, some months after they had moved in together, into that tiny flat in a nice neighborhood, though a Muggle neighborhood, close enough to both the Ministry and Diagon Alley, when Hermione came home from a stressful day in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – she was becoming annoyed with the messy bureaucracy that, for some reason, she had not expected – to find Ron in their small kitchen, keeping several pots aboil. He looked frantic, sweaty, and nervous, his hair mussed and sticking up in places so that she immediately went over and tried to smooth it out. He jumped. He had been so preoccupied he had not even notice her come in.

"No! You can't be home yet!"

"Why not?" She asked, stripping off the thoroughly soaked rain jacket.

"Because it was supposed to be a surprise! And I'm not ready!"

"Well I can go back out there in that storm if that's what you really want, or should I just sit in the hall til you come fetch me?"

"That wouldn't be terrible-"

"Ron, I'm tired, I've had a long day. I'm staying inside now."

"But I was going to cook for you and have everything laid out and perfect and now it's all just ruined."

"How 'bout I give you some time, if you really need it?" Hermione kissed him on the cheek before starting to pull the wet jumper over her head while simultaneously walking towards the bathroom. "I'll just take a hot bath while you finish up in here and-"

"No!" Ron screamed, dodging towards her, losing his concentration on the pots and allowing them the chance to boil over, creating an awful burning tomato skin smell.

As Hermione succeeded in pulling off her shirt, fighting her annoyance with Ron, she saw what he had been trying to keep a secret from her. The bathroom was filled with floating tea candles and rose petals continued to fall from the ceiling while a lovely scent – hydrangeas and ginger – wafted from the already drawn bath, filled to the brim with bubbles.

"It was supposed be a romantic surprise, but now everything's wrecked."

Hermione looked at Ron, his face fallen, a sauce smear across his brow. She smiled and hugged him fiercely.

"Oh, Ron, it is romantic." She kissed him hard on the lips.

"'T 's?" He asked, not taking his mouth from hers.

"Uh huh." She answered. And then she began to unfasten his pants.

As they lounged, happily, in the tub together, abandoning the dinner Ron had labored over and decided what to order in, it occurred to Hermione that perhaps she had forgotten something, an anniversary perhaps, which had caused Ron to go through all this trouble.

"Ron, this is- Everything you've done is really sweet- But, and I don't mean to sound rude, but, what's the occasion? Why did you go to all this trouble?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, bleedin' Merlin's left nut…" muttered Ron as he abruptly pulled away and climbed out of the bath. "I forgot the most important- Hold on."

Hermione giggled – and she was not the giggling type – as she saw Ron naked and dripping wet, run from the bathroom in a hurry. A moment later he returned, his hands behind his back.

"Hermione Jean Granger, you have made me a better person-"

"Oh come off it-" Hermione started, figuring he was having a laugh.

"No, no, hold on," Ron said as he kneeled. Hermione could feel her entire body tense and flush. "Hermione Jean Granger, 'Mione, you make me happier than I've ever been in my life, each and every day, happier than if the Cannons won the cup, I, I just love you so much, and, well," he brought his hands forward to reveal a small jewelry box, "Would you marry me?"

He clicked open the box to reveal a ring. But Hermione wasn't looking at the ring. Her eyes, filled with tears, were focused on the blurry man she loved before her. She grabbed him, spilling tub water and splashing bubbles all over the tile floor, as he hugged him and pulled him close.

"Yes, Ron, yes, of course, yes."

She kissed him, and smiled, and kissed him.

At last Ron pulled away.

"Phew. That's a relief."

They both laughed.

****

Ron gripped her hand as the mediwizard approached them, smiling.

"It's a boy," she said, flicking her wand so that perfect images of their little baby, buried deep within Hermione's womb, appeared out of thin air. "Congratulations."

"A boy!" Ron chirped. "Oh boy! I bet he'll play Quidditch. I bet he'll be great. And he'll love the Cannons. Won't he 'Mione?"

Hermione squeezed Ron's hand back. She looked at the images. A little baby boy. Another baby boy.

"What'll we name him?" Ron asked, excited, practically buzzing in his seat. "Fred? But now George already has his Fred, so it might be odd to have cousins both named Fred… What about other Weasley family names? Let's see, there was my uncle Bilius, and then there was Fabian, but I think Bilius is a more respectable name, don't-"

"What about my uncle Hugo? Hugo is a nice name," Hermione suggested, unable to take her eyes off the pictures before her of her little baby boy. Her second little baby boy.

"Hugo Weasley-Granger," Ron said, impressed. "I like the sound of that."

Hermione smiled blankly as the mediwizard's projected images disappeared and the physical examination continued.

****

"Mum! Rose's pulling my hair again!"

Hermione looked over at Hugo, his head tilted to the side. Rose, her little darling girl, strapped in her chair a good four feet from him, her arm outstretched, and her hand clenching onto open air. Magic. Hermione would never get used to it. Or to sibling rivalry.

"Rose," Hermione walked over and picked up her toddler from her seat. She held the girl close to her chest and rocked her back and forth. "What have we said about picking on your brother?"

Rose gurgled back at her and smiled. Clever little girl. Already finding her own way out of situations, appearing blameless. Hermione couldn't help but smile. Then she went over to Hugo and tenderly played with his hair until his head felt better again and he ran off to play with his mate James.

"They never get tired, do they?" Ginny, her own belly swollen with yet another child while she clutched her second son, Albus, sleeping, in her arms while smiled.

"No, never," Hermione laughed airily.

"I'm glad, at least, we have these playdates to look forward to. Without them, I don't know how James would ever run off his energy-"

"I know what you mean, Hugo, every night, he's nearly exploded the cat on several occasions. Ron always claims he was the same way at that age-"

"And he was!" Ginny laughed. "Little Rose, there, though, she knows how to handle him. Good on her too. I don't know how she'd survive, otherwise. Being the youngest Weasley – or Weasley-Granger – is never easy. You need to be tough."

The two women laughed easily together. They met up every weekend, allowing their children to play in the park, or, if it was raining, like today, run around inside, destroying their small flats, while their husbands drank a pint and talked at the corner pub. Every now and again Ginny – before her latest pregnancy – grew frustrated with this arrangement and forced Harry to mind the children while she enjoyed a rest – as Ron, thanks to the job flexibility at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, was home with the children far more often than she – in which case it would be Harry and Hermione sitting together while Ginny and Ron drank and reveled in the old days, frequently reverting to hair pulling themselves. On these occasions, which Hermione did not prefer, she frequently found herself thinking back on her son, their son, his black hair and green eyes, just like Harry's, and imagining him running around the room, throwing cushions, causing the odd 'Bang!' playing all the usual children's games right there before her eyes. The memory of that one night – what was one night, in the grand scheme of things? – was too deeply buried in Harry anymore, but Hermione always thought about him, their son, who she had never told Harry about before. Never would tell Harry about. It was foolish to think of at all. Even now. With her little Rose, her little pet, snuggled in her lap.

"How are things going with SPEW?" Asked Ginny.

"Quite well, actually. I think we're really close to some actual legislation being passed," Hermione smiled at her sister-in-law until she felt Rose tugging at her hair. "Darling, Rosie, Mummy wants you to stop that-"

"Has a thing for hair pulling, does she?"

"Yeah. Did Ron have this at her age?"

"Not that I recall. Not that means anything. I got my hair pulled often enough in that household, all the older brothers I had. Maybe Rose inherited this from one of them? Bill or Charlie, Percy maybe?"

Ginny laughed easily but Hermione flinched at the idea of her being unfaithful. She never had been unfaithful. Technically.

"Anyway," Ginny started up again, amending herself after she noticed Hermione was not laughing. "I'm sure it's just a phase. Little kids, you know? Little girls, maybe. I hope I find out." She rubbed her swelling baby. "I know that I just want a healthy child and all that, but I'd be so glad to have a girl, I really would." She was beaming, glowing, and Hermione just had to smile back at her. In her arms, Rose twisted a little, and laid her head on her mother's shoulder, tired out. Hermione absent-mindedly reached a hand up to stroke Rose's hair as she and Ginny continued their conversation about this newest child.

****

Life has a habit of falling into place, so that if enough time has passed, even things that were once monumental become quieter and fall by the wayside as daily problems take precedence. Hugo would be turning nine in a week, it hardly seemed possible. In two short years he would be heading off to Hogwarts, and only two years after that, Rose would be following him. Hermione could hardly believe how quickly her children were growing up.

Savoring the last weekend before the fall term began and the kids returned to spending daytimes at the little red brick local primary school, Hermione and Ron had brought the kids to a playground in the park near their flat. It was Hermione's favorite playground, themed with Peter Pan jungle gyms, the centerpiece being the large wooden pirate ship that kids could take turns pretending to steer. Ron hated Muggle playgrounds and worried frantically over the children:  
"But the bars don't catch them if they fall! The sand from the sandbox doesn't know not to get in their eyes! And there're no toy broomsticks to play with!"  
Muggle playgrounds made Hermione feel nostalgic for her own upbringing, though. She loved them, and encouraged her children to swing on swings that did not push themselves higher and climb up ropes which might burn their hands if they dropped down them suddenly. It was more work, certainly, and more dangerous, maybe, but it was also, as far as Hermione could tell, more fun.

As Ron hovered around Hugo – who, despite earlier complaining that playgrounds were for babies, was having an excellent time – trying to keep him from falling off the side of a metal climbing structure, Hermione sat on a bench an open book in her hands, content to watch Rose from a distance.

Rose, brave girl that she was, had beaten off several larger children to take her place at the wooden ship's steering wheel and was having a good time feigning to navigate the high seas. She was in no real danger – there was nothing to fall off of or cut herself on up there, the worst she might do was get a splinter – and so Hermione was just beginning to let her eyes stray primarily to her book when she heard Rose scream. It was not a scream of pain, exactly, but more the same one shrill scream which came anytime her brother teased her beyond her breaking point. It was a scream of annoyance.

"No! I was here first!" Rose yelled as Hermione looked up to see that her daughter's head was turned and she was yelling at someone not quite visible from where Hermione sat. She stood, closing her book, and walked towards her daughter.

"You're taking too long! I want a turn!"

There was a bright light and a quiet thud sound as Rose quickly jumped away from the wheel and fell against the side railing, several feet from where she'd stood. Rose began to scream in pain now as Hermione quickened her pace.

"Tom!" She heard a man's voice yell. "Tom! You apologize this instant!"

"Mummy!" Rose screamed as Hermione climbed the pirate ship's stairs to get to her daughter. Without any other thought she scooped her up and held her close to her chest. She was not really injured, Hermione was glad to see, but in shock.

"Tom, what have we told you about using-"

Hermione, hands still firmly supporting her child, looked over to where the voice was coming from. A tall man in bright colored shorts and shirt, a camera slung around his neck, was standing in front of a child – presumably Tom – waggling his finger as he spoke. The man noticed Hermione then and began to approach her.

"I'm so sorry," the man began, his voice throaty with an Australian accent. "How do I explain this exactly, see…"

As the man began to make excuses that might perhaps explain the magic done if Hermione hadn't known better, she found she could not focus on his words. Instead, her attention was on the boy behind the man.

He looked to be no more than twelve or thirteen, slight in build, with an angular face. His dark, curly, wild hair framed his face in an almost angelic way and drew attention to his deep green eyes. Tom. Hermione recognized him instantly.

"-see, we're not from around here, obviously, and, maybe, well, some of our customs might come off as a bit strange, but I can assure you, nothing out of the ordinary-"

"Your son did magic," Hermione put all her effort into dragging her eyes away from the boy and looking at the man.

"I- Well-" The man gave an uneasy laugh.

"I'm a witch," Hermione said simply.

"Really?" The man gave a sigh of relief and a broad smile lit up his face. "That's a relief then, isn't it? I thought we'd be bleedin' deported before nightfall, but-" He laughed again, then sobered. "Not that what my son did wasn't very serious. I apologize, profusely. Tom's been- He's been going through a phase, lately. His mum passed a couple years ago and he's never quite adjusted- We're here on holiday, right now, to cheer him up a bit. The doctor recommended it."

Hermione was not sure she liked this man with his over easy flow of details. She wished he would be quiet. She didn't want to hear anymore.

"Quite alright," she said brusquely. "These things happen. Best get my daughter home and clean her up, make sure she's okay-"

"If you've any doubts, if you think she'll need medical treatment or anything, let me give you our number, at the hotel, we're staying at the Leaky Cauldron, do you know it? You can give us a ring, my name's Havelock King, but friends call me Hal-"

By now, Ron was running over, dragging Hugo behind him.

"What's up? What's happened? Is Rose alright?"

"She's fine," answered Hermione. "She really just wants to get home."

"Of course, of course," said Ron, nodding emphatically. He reached out to pet Rose's hair. "Poor little girl, what set her off? I told you these playgrounds were dangerous-"

"My boy," Hal King interrupted, "Accidentally performed a little spell, pushed your daughter out of the way of something he wanted to play with."

Ron surveyed the man skeptically. Hermione guessed that Ron was conflicted, glad to be dealing with a wizard, but wanting to beat his face in for allowing his little girl to get hurt.

"Tom," Hal called over to his son, "Come apologize to these people. You hurt their feelings by acting so brashly."

Tom, who had been hovering in the background, likely trying to be forgotten, took a few steps forward. He was too old to be playing in playgrounds, Hermione thought as she saw him up close. And he looked as if he knew he was too old. Poor dear, no mother and oaf for a father, she thought. But then she tried to remind herself, who's fault was that?

"I'm very sorry," Tom said curtly. His voice, despite being tinged with the foreign accent, sounded so similar to Harry's at that age. The same tone and pitch, the same lilt. "I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed, bending to get a closer look at the boy. Hermione wished he wouldn't. "This is your son?" He asked Hal. "You're sure?" Hal just laughed. "Looks just like a friend of ours, doesn't he 'Mione?"

"Like Uncle Harry," Hugo filled in.

"What a coincidence," Ron smiled, standing up again. "Brings me back to when I was his age, that does. I'm sure it was an accident, Tom was it? Magic is hard to control when you're that age-"

"And the poor boy just lost his mother a couple years ago. Hasn't been the same since." Hal filled in.

"No hard feelings, Tom." Ron patted the boy on the back. Maybe a little harder than he should have, the boy looked delicate, but Hermione figured that was on purpose, Ron hadn't forgiven the boy completely.

"We really should be getting home, dear," Hermione said. Rose was beginning to squirm in her arms. Likely she was feeling better already and probably wanted to go play some more.

"Yeah, of course," nodded Ron. "Well, nice meeting you then, Hal, Tom. Well, sort of nice meeting you. You know. And all."

Hal made Tom apologize once more as the Weasley-Grangers finally backed away and started to make their way home. They stopped at an ice cream parlor and rewarded both the children with a cone – Ron wanted a sundae, but then patted his growing stomach and thought against it at the last second – and while Hugo and Rose ate in happy silence, Ron and Hermione hung back behind them.

"Really did look like Harry, didn't he?" Ron said to Hermione as he took her hand.

"I suppose," said Hermione. "He had a different build, though. A different face, too. And his hair was curlier, and a bit lighter than Harry's-"

"Same eyes, though," Ron finished for her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he was Harry's kid."

"But you do know better," Hermione added quickly.

"Yeah, of course I do, 'cause…" He paused, thoughtfully, which made Hermione tense up. "If Harry ever cheated on Ginny he knows I would murder him." He laughed and kept walking. A minute later and he was trying to steal the cone from Hugo's hands on the pretense of stopping the drips from getting on his son's shirt, but really so he could sneak a few licks himself. Hermione watched and smiled and Rose, having forgotten her earlier fit, smiled as if she had never felt pain in her life. A happy family. A happy family. Of course. Hermione repeated it to herself, over and over, a happy family. Still, she could not get the image of young Tom out of her head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis: **DH, mid book AU. Sort of, I tried to blend it? Hermione had sensed it, that night, in Godric's Hollow, that it was meant to happen. And now there had to be consequences. Chapter 2: Rose wants to escape the enclosed life of Hogwarts, sick of being a big fish in a tiny wizard pond.  
**Note: **In this story, Hugo is older than Rose. He is the same age as James Potter.

**Chapter 2**

She was not, as her father thought, abandoning her family. She just wanted a change. It was odd, having been raised practically half-Muggle for all the time they spent out in non-magical London, that she should just be asked, abruptly, at the age of eleven, to give up half a life which she had grown accustomed to. Not that she loathed Hogwarts, far from it, but just that she didn't exactly see Hogwarts as the end-all of her life.

While her father reminisced about his own great times there, Rose had sat, raptly listening, interested in every word. A castle. With a forest and a lake. And ghosts. And secret passages. And people, all like her, where magic didn't have to be kept secret anymore. It all sounded wonderful.

****

She remembered that first day on platform 9 ¾, her brother already onboard the train, finding his friends – he had friends here while she was so alone! – as her father pointed out each passing family and whispered to her about them.

"That's Hannah Abbott, and her son, Patrick. If you ever need help with herbology, ask him first, if he's anything like his mother- Oi! And that must be little Ceallach McLaggen. Don't let him near you, alright- And John Wood! You'll want to befriend him if you want to make the Quidditch team, you want to make the Quidditch team, don't you?"

Rose saw her mum nudge her dad none too softly in the side.

"That's enough. You're going to have a great time, Rosie, darling, no matter who your friends are and whether you play Quidditch or not-"

"But you want to play Quidditch, don't you?" Her father was persistent if nothing else.

Rose, feeling a sudden welling up of feeling, jumped forward and embraced both her parents as firmly as she could. She felt their hands upon her back as they pulled her in tighter.

"We're going to miss you," cooed her mother. "But you're going to have such a great time. You will."

Just then, Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny approached with Albus.

The adults chatted while Rose watched Albus. He looked just as scared as she felt. She hoped her face was not as readable as his.

Her father leaned into her again.

"So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

Rose looked to where her father was pointing and saw a boy, pale with silver hair, a pointed chin, and austere looking parents behind him. Rose tried to smile at the boy, not knowing if what her father told her was said in jest, but when the boy did not return her smile she assumed it was not. She looked away, down, at her feet.

Before she knew it, she was onboard the train, sitting across from her cousin – their brothers having abandoned them – glad she knew someone at least. Albus was chattering away with a new-found confidence now that his father, Uncle Harry, had assured him that he would have at least a small say in which house he was sorted into.

"So even if that hat tells you Slytherin," Albus continued his train of thought, "you can still tell it, 'No, thank you, I'd prefer Gryffindor.' My dad said that's what he did. And it worked for him. So that's a relief, isn't it?"

But Rose wasn't particularly worried about the sorting process. She should be, perhaps, but instead she was consumed with a greater fear. What if she failed to make any friends? What if no one at Hogwarts liked her, at all? Sure, she had Albus, for now, but what if he ran off with their brothers and left her alone, the odd girl out? She thought back to that severe looking boy on the platform, Scorpius, her father had said. She thought of how he had turned away from her smile, disinterested in any branch of friendship she'd offered. And what if everyone else was just as cold as he was? What if?

By the time they'd made it to the castle, off the train and across the lake in wobbling boats, Rose was feeling no less comfortable. No one, not even Albus who was tied up in nerves again, spoke to her as she waited with the rest of the first years to enter the great hall and have the sorting ceremony begin.

When they were led in, single file, past the tables of students all watching them, Rose regretted deeply that her last name was Weasley-Granger instead of the reverse. At least if her name began with a G instead of a W she could be sorted early and sitting and hopefully making friends soon. Instead, she knew she would be nearly last if not last completely, and by the time she was sorted and sat down she knew the cliques would already have formed. And she would be the odd girl out again. She watched as that wretched Scorpius boy found a place at the Slytherin table. She envied him as an older student reached out to pat him on the back, and broke a little as she saw him smile back at the older student. So it was just she who did not deserve reciprocation. She watched her cousin – the hat only barely touching his head before announcing its decision – join their brothers at the Gryffindor table. The unsorted students around her dwindled. She would be last. Finally, her turn came.

Rose, keeping her eyes forward, refusing to look embarrassed or ashamed or uncomfortable, took her seat on the sorting stool and waited for the hat to be placed upon her head. She chanted to herself, be brave, be brave, be brave, over and over. She would make friends. Surely. She would. She had to. She would.

She felt the weight of the hat upon her head.

"Ahhh…" She heard it as if it were an echo inside her head. "Be brave, be brave, sounds like a Gryffindor. And a Weasley, too. Should be a perfect match then. But." She waited, urging the hat to make its decision, not to ponder too long. "I always regretted your mother's decision. She could have done well in Ravenclaw. Yes, she could have. And you could too. Her brains inside you girl. More brains than bravery I would say. Yes, Ravenclaw would be ideal."

"Nooo." She thought, as hard as she could. She didn't know anyone in Ravenclaw. She would be completely alone in Ravenclaw. She thought back to what Albus had told her. "Gryffindor, please, I'd prefer Gryffindor. I'll get braver, I promise, I will. Just, put me in Gryffindor, please."

"Gryffindor, then? You're sure about that? Ah well." The hat seemed to be shrugging. She felt it around her ears. "GRYFFINDOR!"

There was cheering and the hat was being pulled off her head and Rose was moving towards her new table. Her brother clapped her on the back. So did her cousin James. They all beamed at her, proud. Hands stretched out to her as her housemates introduced themselves. Yes. Gryffindor was a good choice, she thought. She'd be content here.

****

In her fourth year, it was decided that the annual winter dance – created after the success of the Yule Ball years before – would have a theme. The theme was put to a vote. The options were not particularly interesting to Rose, who had not been planning on even attending the dance, though it would be the first year she was eligible to attend, so when the day came when they were asked to check a box on the little paper ballots circulating the great hall at breakfast, she barely took notice.

"You have to vote for Night Under the Stars," Hugo told her, assuredly.

"Why?" She asked, unsure why her brother was so interested in the matter.

"Because. I told you to." Her brother paused, looking at her for a solid minute before acknowledging that she was not going to blankly accept his command. "Because, I was hoping to ask a girl to the dance, and I have a whole way of going about it, all planned out, but it really only fits in with that one theme, so that one theme has to be the theme we have-"

"Which girl?" Rose asked her brother.

"Why does it matter?"

"I bet it's Zoe Chang." She waited for her brother to deny it, but instead his cheeks turned a deep flame red. "It is Zoe Chang."

"Just vote for Night Under the Stars, alright?" He punched her in the arm as she said it and then walked off to his first class of the day.

Rose rubbed her arm, it didn't really hurt, but she liked making a show of it, as she considered the ballot before her. She may as well check the one her brother wanted. She had no preference, and it would be a nice thing to do if she went along with what Hugo wanted. Which wasn't a huge deal. Just a little bit of sibling camaraderie. She was nearly about to check the box when she was bumped from behind. Her quill scratched against the parchment, making a huge black line down the side.

"You could watch where you're going, you know-" she began before she turned around. Staring straight at her, challenging look in his eyes, was Scorpius Malfoy. "What do you want, Malfoy?" She finally asked. Malfoy just shrugged. "Well, then, you shouldn't have knocked me like that. It was rude. Are you going to apolgize?"

Scorpius turned his back on her and walked away.

This was very like him.

Not that she knew from experience.

The last time she had spoken to him had been last year, when Professor Slughorn had paired them up in Potions. Even then they'd spoken in terse terms, merely demanding of each other that this be cut or that be added or stirred. The most exciting moment of class had been when Malfoy had watched her add the lacewing to the cauldron only to tell her she was doing it wrong.

"I am not." She asserted.

"Yes, you are." And he'd grabbed the lacewing from her, too brusquely, and it had broken into a thousand tiny pieces, impossible to recollect and add now. Neither of them wanting to confess their ill step – they were both top students – they just glared at one another, internally accepting that this potion would not be their finest work. Rose had been glad to get rid of him at the end of the day, but her housemate, Clothilde Vane, ran up to her after the class let out.

"You were working with Scorpius!" Clothild squealed.

"I know." Rose said simply as she made her way towards the Divination classroom.

"So, how was it?"

"Awful. He was an awful partner to have. Very conceited."

"But he's so cute!"

Rose looked at Clothilde closely, trying to examine the girl's face, to see if there was sarcasm behind her words or not. She decided there wasn't.

"Are you kidding? He's so pale I thought he was albino 'til I saw his eyes." And with that Rose had continued walking.

"Those beautiful, gray eyes." Clothilde rhapsodized behind her.

Sure, Rose accepted, he had nice eyes. In fact, he wasn't awful looking. But he was still repulsive, rude, thoroughly. She did not like Scorpius Malfoy, had not liked him, ever since that day on the platform.

Now, Rose turned her attention back to piece of parchment before her. Besides the unwieldy stripe down the side it was still a perfectly good ballot and so she checked the box her brother wanted her to check and she walked forward to drop it in the box she was meant to drop it in and then she headed off to class and forgot about the whole ordeal.

Weeks later, days before the Yule Ball – A Night Under the Stars – she had still forgotten, mainly, when Scorpius Malfoy stopped her in the hall after Potions.

"WG," he said curtly.

Several of the kids, those not in her house at least, called her 'WG' as her last name was just too long to say in full. Of course this nickname had not originated because of her – why would anyone need to say her name? – but instead because of her brother, the Quidditch whiz, the best Keeper Gryffindor had seen in ages.

"Yes?" She asked after a long enough pause, growing impatient. She had another class to get to.

"I was just wondering…"

Her heart began to beat faster. She wondered why. Her pale face felt flush as warmth spread underneath her skin. She cursed his physiology as she waited for Malfoy to end his pregnant pause.

"If…"

"Yes?"

"If it hurts to be that ugly?" He finished, a smile forming on his lips. His friends, who had been standing behind her, burst out laughing. Malfoy joined their laughter as he pushed past her. She just stood there. And hated herself.

"Thought I was going to ask her to the Yule Ball!" She heard him exclaim. Someone slapped someone else's hand and she heard them retreat. She stayed frozen to her spot. Breathe, she told herself. Hold it in. Ignore them.

Finally, she took a step forward, towards her next class, towards all her housemates who had already gotten ahead of her. She took another step, then heard another exclamation of laughter and looked over her shoulder one last time. There was Scorpius, surrounded by his Slytherins, all just cracking up. Almost all cracking up. For just before Rose turned her head to face forward again she thought she saw Scorpius, turning his head back, looking at her. For less than a second their eyes met. She thought she saw something close to remorse in them, or at least, she saw something far from the reveling of his friends.

That was what she thought of, when she thought of Scorpius Malfoy. That look of regret. It replaced, in her mind, that day on the platform. That was when, she could later say, she began to feel sorry for the boy.

****

Her sixth year both of her older cousins were prefects and her brother became captain of the Quidditch team. Her younger cousin, Lily, with her burning red hair and glowing blue eyes, had recently been appointed Seeker of the team, after Ceallach McLaggen had been caught cheating and been – at Headmistress McGonagall's suggestion – removed from the team for the year. Lily instantly became the new star of Gryffindor house after her brilliant win against Hufflepuff, and everyone couldn't wait to see how she faired in the upcoming game against Slytherin. It was all the talk, in all the hallways, in all her classes, in all the school. Everyone wanted to hear about Lily.

Despite the fact that Lily was only a fourth year, several boys had stepped forward to ask her out, requesting, weeks in advance, that she be their date for the winter dance. Lily denied all of them. When Rose asked her why, Lily only shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm waiting for someone in particular," she said, smiling. Rose did not dare ask who. She sensed her cousin wouldn't tell her.

Meanwhile, Rose was doing very well in all her classes. She was top of her year, she knew. It was a close race, but she held the top spot for now, at least. Just one more year and then she would be rid of this school entirely, with a pristine record to recommend her for any university or job which she desired. And she was considering university, despite her father's clear objection to it. University was something Muggles attended, or, at wort, something patronized by wizards who had been unable to find work. Ronald Weasley's daughter, he had boasted to her, speaking in third person, would easily be able to find work. Genius that she was. Yes, she agreed, mentally blushing at acknowledging her genius, she would be able to find work. Certainly. But what if she didn't want to work in the wizarding world? She had been raised, after all, to appreciate the Muggle way of life. What if she wanted to become a dentist, like her mother's parents? What if she wanted to go off for years and sit in a library, reading books, and listening to lectures, as she had heard her mother describe the university experience? It sounded lovely to her. And, anyway, she was sick of this tight wizarding community. If she followed her father's ideal path, then she would graduate from here and go right to work with all her classmates, maybe one day finding some ho-hum job at the Ministry and then marrying someone she had sat through Transfiguration with. It all sounded very unpleasant. She wanted more than that, more than this little exclusive world in which she lived.

Rose planned on at least attending the winter dance this year. It would be her first year going and she was only doing so because she had had the nagging sense lately that she was missing out on something. She did not know what. So she went into Hogsmeade with Clothilde and Maria Thomas to pick out a dress. She tried on several before she felt comfortable enough to step out of the dressing room and show her friends.

"Here," she said, walking, arms extended out to her sides, turning in a circle as she went.

"Oh, Rose, it's lovely," Maria said, smiling.

"If you don't want it, can I try it on?" Asked Clothilde, currently modeling a green halter neck dress herself.

Rose nodded at her, but, as she examined herself in the mirror which rotated around her, she was sure that this would be her dress. It complimented her colors, pallid color that they were. She had inherited her father's pale, freckled skin, and his blue eyes, while her hair, a mouse brown color and frizzed out around her head, frequently blocking her eyes and getting in her mouth, was from her mother. While her mother, she acknowledged, was exceptionally pretty, Rose had resigned herself to believing she was merely not un-attractive, at best. Looks were not her strong point, and that had never bothered her. This dress, however, made her feel beautiful in a way she had never considered before. Looking at herself in the mirror – it kept murmuring to her, "Darling, you have to buy this dress, you look simply divine" – she smiled. The gentle rose color of the gown, a deep, soft pink off set her eyes pleasantly and the cut, a deep v neck with brief sleeves and a tailored waist that grew into a great, wide skirt, flattered her figure. She was tall for a girl, she knew, and hardly lady like in appearance, but this dress made her look almost… statuesque? Beautiful. For the first time in her life she felt nearly beautiful. Nearly.

"I'll take it," she told the shopkeeper, a kind old woman with ruddy cheeks and a friendly demeanor, eager to please.

A week later, the much anticipated Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match was finally upon them. Rose cheered on her family as they swooped and dove around the pitch. They were playing really well, she gauged. Just as she thought this, her brother Hugo, took a stray Bludger straight to the head. Before she could even scream, she watched him fall backwards, off his broom, and sink, inevitably, towards the ground. No, this couldn't be happening. The rest of the Gryffindors, far across the pitch, with the Quaffle, none of them noticed her brother's fall. She yelled, she yelled hardest out of that entire crowd, for someone, please, someone, do something, someone.

A flash of green swooped down, from nowhere. The stadium erupted. Some were cheering and others yelling curses and finally the rest of the Gryffindor team took notice and all of them, united, begged for a time-out. There, on the pitch, was Hugo, cradled, just barely, in the arms of Scorpius Malfoy. He had saved her brother's life.

The game stopped, Rose pushed her way through the crowds and out towards where all the players were huddled, standing, waiting to hear what would come next. Her brother, on a stretcher now, was being guided into the castle by the time Rose reached him.

"Go on," encouraged Headmistress McGonagall, pushing her forward, after the stretcher, "see him in."

So she followed her brother. And even though she was asked to wait outside, in the hall, while Madame Patil administered to his wounds, she thought back to what had happened on the pitch, and thanked anyone who would listen that her brother was safe.

A couple hours later, the Gryffindor team rushed in, reveling in victory. The game had been close and difficult, they told her, with no one in the Keeper position, but Lily had saved the day, with a magnificent catch of the Snitch. She hugged her cousin tight and congratulated her. She told the team that no one was allowed in to see her brother now – he was fine, Madame Patil had told her, but had taken dreamless sleep potion and would be out now for hours – and encouraged them to bring their celebrations to the common room. Hesitantly, they took her suggestion and departed. And Rose was alone in the hallway once more. She sat there so long that after she did not know how much time, she fell asleep against the cold stonewall, her back uncomfortably molding against the individual stones.

Sometime after midnight, her watch informed her, she cracked her eyes open, just a little, and thought she saw something green before her.

"Hello?" She mumbled, half conscious.

"Just came to check on your brother." Scorpius Malfoy, still dressed in his Quidditch robes, muddier than she'd last seen him, and still sweating, they must have stayed late and had extra practice, stood before her.

"He's fine," she rubbed her eyes, attempting to wake herself. "Asleep now."

"Well…" Malfoy looked down and kicked at the ground. "That's good then. I'll be off."

He started to walk away and it took more than a moment before Rose made herself stand and take only one step after him.

"Wait," she said. He turned around. He looked at her, glaring almost, as if daring her to tell him why she'd stopped his leaving. "I just wanted to say… I mean…"

"Out with it already," he spit impatiently. "I haven't got all night. I'm tired. Like to get some sleep in."

She frowned at him. Jerk.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

"Alright then." He turned to leave again.

This didn't feel exactly right.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"I- Just-"

"And?"

"You make this impossible, you know! I'm trying to thank you and you just stand there and act like some great prick and it's no wonder I hate you!"

He seemed taken aback at this. Rose pursed her lips. Without thinking, her right hand felt down her side, where her wand was in her pocket, as if she was going to need to protect herself. Malfoy saw this motion and watched her, his eyes closing into a squint, but he did not reach for his wand. Instead he just stared, blankly. Then, suddenly, what looked like it could have been a smile but was probably just a smirk made its way across his face.

"Some gratitude." He turned again. "See you later, WG."

Before he even turned the corner, she was sliding down the wall again. She closed her eyes and tried to return to sleep, but it didn't work. She frowned. Stupid Malfoy.

A couple more weeks passed and her entire house seemed filled with excitement, the younger students that Christmas break was soon approaching, and the older students that the winter dance was soon. For awhile Rose joined them in their excitement. For awhile she felt prepared. As the day of the dance grew closer, though, she began to hesitate. She was nowhere near ready for the dance. She did not have a date, not that that was such a big thing. But she also began to worry about her appearance. Having the dress was one thing, of course, but the total look was quite another. On the night of the ball Maria and Clothilde helped her struggle with her freckles and her hair before abandoning her – apologetically – so they could go meet their dates. She didn't have a date, and so felt in no rush. In fact, it would not disappoint her, she decided, if she had to spend all night in this cylindrical room in Gryffindor tower, preparing for the dance. At least she looked nice. Nice enough. Her hair was a mess, though. After relaxing charms and coloring charms and curling charms and smoothing charms had frizzed her hair past the point of recognition she gave up on magic entirely and remembered the pair of scissors in her trunk. Yes. She could cut her hair off. That would solve the problem. Why had she never thought of it before?

Standing before the mirror – it hissed at her "Are you ssssure this is a good idea?" – she brought the scissors level with her chin and snipped. There. And she snipped again. And again. Until soon more of her hair lay on the floor than remained on her head. Without all the excess weight of the frizzy curls which had been dragging it down, the rest of Rose's hair fell into a nice, wavy bob, framing her face. It wasn't fancy, sure, but it looked nice. Looking into the mirror now, with her short hair, she felt as if she was seeing herself for the first time. She smiled.

Her confidence lasted through the common room – the handful of third years, too young to attend the ball, who remained cheered her on – and all the way down to the entrance of the great hall. Approaching the entry way, though, she began to waver. What if this hair cut was terrible? What if she had already sweat through her dress? Wouldn't it be better if she just went back upstairs?

She peaked into the hall. Her brother, Zoe Chang in his arms, waltzed past the door. Icicles and candles hung together mid air in the room. Light reflected off the artificial snow banks against the walls, making the room appear to be covered in diamonds. What was this years theme? She tried to remember. She had voted, again at Hugo's insistence, but she could hardly remembered what she had voted for. A warm, red glow seemed to be coming from the bandstand, which in total resembled, despite the band playing upon it, a wood stove. Yes, that was the theme, fire and ice. That was what she had voted for. She wondered if her look fit the theme, if it even mattered.

Just then she caught sight of her cousin, Lily, across the room. Her hair, as bright as a flame, was glowing as it swirled around her as she twirled. A smile was etched across her face. She was laughing, Rose could tell. And, twirling her, just now, Scorpius Malfoy smiled, or half-smiled too. Lily Potter and Scorpius Malfor turned in circles near the glowing red stage, the couple themselves the epitome of fire and ice. Was this, perhaps, what Lily had meant when she said she was waiting by a certain someone to be asked to the ball?

"Rose!" She heard Maria's voice. "Rosie!"

Maria, looking wonderful in a strapless ocean blue gown was waving her over to wear she stood with Ricky Jordan.

"You're hair!" She exclaimed as Rose approached her.

"It was impulsive, I know, do you like it, does it look alright?"

"It looks great!" Maria beamed at her. "Really!" Rose smiled, confident her friend wouldn't lie to her face. "Is this what took you so long? You've missed almost half the dance already!"

Rose smiled and shrugged. She was looking across the room again, at her cousin Lily, how happy she looked.

"Scandalous, isn't it?" Clothilde came up behind her following her gaze. "Our Seeker with theirs! If he hadn't saved WG – Hugo – a couple weeks ago, I don't think I could even stand it! Cute as he is… A Slytherin!" She shook her head.

Cute as he was. Scorpius was not someone she would call cute. Angular, yes. Maybe, maybe, even attractive, in an odd way, if you liked that sort of thing. Pale skin, silver hair, gray eyes, sharp chin, sharp nose, lithe body, firm waist- She stopped herself. Scorpius Malfoy hated her. Always had. Since that day on the platform.

Determined to enjoy herself, Rose accepted any boy who asked for a dance. Whirling around the floor in the arms of a petite Hufflepuff fourth year, she started laughing a deep, throaty laugh, so thoroughly enjoying herself, that she hardly noticed when she passed by Scorpius, alone she was pleased to see, by the fiery red stage.

"That Slytherin Seeker keeps looking at you," the Hufflepuff, she forgot his name, told her.

"No he's not," she answered assuredly.

"Are you sure? Seems like he's looking at you."

She stole one more glance in Malfoy's direction and met his steely, uncomfortable gaze. He frowned.

"Pretty sure," she said, though she no longer was.

Later, hot and sweaty from the dancing, needing to cool down, she walked out into the adjacent garden created on the Hogwart's lawn. Flowers made of ice sprung up around her as she walked a ways down the path, trying to separate herself the couples she knew to be hiding in the bushes which happened to be planted to closest to school this year. Probably so that the professors could break up any entwined couple they found more easily, not that it deterred the couples from forming.

Rose, solitary, walked all the way down the path to where she had earlier seen an ice gazebo being constructed. She longed to see it now, in the moonlight, wanted to know exactly what the ice would look like in this serene garden, under the stars, red fires from the great hall reflecting off it. She saw the roof of the gazebo before anything else. It glittered, like diamonds. She smiled. She took a few steps further, around the dogwood trees with their unseasonable pink blooms, icicles hanging from the flowers. It was a lovely night.

She took the last turn around a tree, the gazebo finally fully coming into view. It was not what she expected. Yes, the ice was glowing, shining as if lit from within, and the moonlight was reflecting, gorgeous, forming pools around it, but that was not held her gaze. Standing in the gazebo, arms rapped around each other, faces pressed against one another, lips mashing and turning and closing and sucking, were her cousin, Lily, fire red hair shining, and Scorpius Malfoy, his pale skin almost glaring in the moonlight. She watched them for a second more than she should have, then took a step backwards, as if to begin her turn around, but her heel caught on her dress, and the ice beneath helped her not at all, and she slid to the ground with a loud crash. Her right arm ached, more painful than anything she could remember. She very much wanted to open her mouth and scream, but the biting tears at her eyes stopped her, as her whole world went blurry.

"Rose!" She heard Lily yell, and soon her young cousin was petting her hair, smoothing her dress, asking if everything was alright.

"I- I was just walking- Just needed some fresh air- And- And I slipped-" She tried to push herself to her feet, but her right arm rebelled, and this time she screamed.

She felt a new hand, tender, and her arm, taking her wrist and gently applying pressure to it.

"It's broken," the new voice said.

"Are you sure?" Asked Lily.

"Fairly certain," nodded Scorpius, his voice now registering in Rose's brain. "We should get you to the infirmary."

"No, no," Rose tried to rebel, "I can get myself there."

"Don't be silly," Lily said, and helped her to her feet.

Before she knew it, her cousin and Malfoy were guiding through the garden, circumventing the great hall and its revelry, and leading her through the castle to the infirmary.

"Scorpius wants to be a mediwizard," she heard Lily say at one point. With her arm screaming at her, it was all she could do to nod back appreciatively.

She was not the only one in the infirmary that night. Boys and girls with sprained ankles and alcohol poisoning lined the cots. Madame Patil only gave her a brief once over, tersely asking Lily and Malfoy what happened, before she assigned Rose a bed and told her she would be with her in a moment.

"You'll be fine in no time," Lily said as she drew the curtains around the bed, allowing Rose some privacy.

"Sure, sure," Rose muttered, the words she'd spoken in awhile. "One thing's for sure. I'm never attending another winter dance again."

Her cousin laughed and hugged her gently.

Though she was not expecting them to, Lily and Malfoy pulled chairs up to her hospital cot and waited with her. Madame Patil, likely with more patients than usual, was taking a while to get to her, and it was very late, and she could feel her eyelids drooping.

"It's best to stay awake," she heard Malfoy say.

"Oh yeah?" She looked over to where the blond boy sat, his arm around her now dozing cousin.

"Yeah. If you fall asleep your arm muscles might relax, in which case the bones may abnormally align themselves, and then it'll take ages for it to heal. Whereas if you just stay awake, a few simple spells and a good night's rest will do the trick."

She looked at Malfoy, square in the face. This was as close as she'd come to him since third year, in potions.

"Why are you being so thoughtful tonight?" She looked at him accusingly. "You fancy my cousin?"

Malfoy shrugged. And they resumed their silence, Rose now trying her hardest to stay awake and conscious of her arm.

Just as she felt her eyes beginning to sag again, she felt a pressure next to her sink the mattress so that she was pulled down a little, and leaning, her left side now pressed against her bed's intruder.

"Stay awake," Scorpius pleaded. He took her left hand, her good hand, and squeezed it. "Come on now."

She was close to falling asleep, just to spite him, and may have, if she hadn't been startled that instant to feel his other hand combing through her hair.

"I like it short," he said, casually, as if he always complimented her hair. His fingers ran through it again. And again, getting closer to her cheek each time. Finally, she felt Malfoy's fingers run across her forehead, then her cheek bones, then, shockingly, her lips. She sat as still as she could, willing her body not to blush, not to tense, not to react at all. "I think you're lovely, Rose," he said, his fingers tracing the outline of her pink lips.

"That's just because," the words felt distant and yet she knew she was forcing her entire weight behind them. "That's just because I glammed myself up for the night. It's just the dress, and the makeup."

"No," Scorpius said, severely, and she tingled. "It isn't."

She turned her face to look at him properly. His fingers and hand dipped from her mouth to her collarbone, made prominent with each heavy breath. His eyes were warm for once, and pleading. She bit her lower lip. He tried to force a smile but instead sank his eyebrows and leaned closer, awkward, horribly awkward, so that they entire moment felt like it was not happening to her, but was something she was watching instead. He closed his eyes, his eyelids so pale they were violet and almost transparent, and she leaned closer, just to see the thin purple veins running over his eyes and before she knew it her mouth was against his, though she was sure she hadn't intended to put it there. She closed her eyes. She was kissing Scorpius Malfoy. Late at night. In the infirmary wing. Her arm broken and her sleeping cousin sitting less than two feet away. And all she could think of was the feel of his lips against hers, soft, warm. He smelled of both fire and ice, a scent likely picked up at the dance, and underneath that he smelled of clean air, cold and fresh, and especially aged port.

"Now," she heard the voice and with a jolt the kiss ended and she was sitting upright again, clutching her wrist as the curtains in front of her bed pulled apart revealing Madame Patil, "what have we here?"

****

Seventh year began quietly enough. It was strange, riding the train without Hugo. Albus and Maria and Ricky and Clothilde say with her in her compartment on the train to Hogwarts. They chatted about the summer, about the prospect of finally being the eldest, of finally being in charge. Albus and Maria would be Head Boy and Girl. They promised to bend rules for her, not that she could imagine breaking any rules.

In fact, Rose did not do much of anything beyond study. She wanted to be top of her class at the end of it all, and she was so close now. So close. And, truly, she didn't have anything, or anyone, distracting her from her goal. She was single minded.

It was going to rain that evening. She could feel it in her arm. It had been like this since it had broken. Her father had joked that she should become a meteorologist now. It was a Muggle term she knew he had picked up from watching the evening Muggle news with her mum. If she had told her father that, yes, becoming a meteorologist did sound like a good idea, she knew it would have caused him blow a gasket. Not that he knew what a gasket was. He just wanted her to choose a wizarding profession and after she spent the summer working a Muggle job, as a fitting room attendant at Primark department store, he was more worried than ever that she would disobey him. Of course, her coworkers that summer had encouraged her dream of attending a Muggle university, as she heard from them how enjoyable it all was. Yes, she'd have to study hard, but she did not mind studying. And she would finally be meeting new people, not this same crowd she felt like she had known now both for seven years and forever.

They heard a girl's giggle shrill outside their compartment and seconds later Adeola Zabini, her mouth open and smiling, was racing past them. Just as she was almost out of view, Scorpius Malfoy appeared from behind her. He grabbed her in his arms and tugged her backwards. She laughed easily as he turned her around to face him and then kissed her square on the mouth.

"Douche," Albus said simply.

"He has that reputation," Maria nodded. Ricky squeezed her hand.

"After what he did to my sister last year…" Albus balled his fists. Rose reached over and touched him gently on the arm. "He just makes me so mad…"

"All of us mate," Ricky nodded. "We could've won last year."

Ricky was thinking back on Quidditch, and now everyone was, Rose knew. Lily had been doing so well last year, for a fourth year and a replacement called in at the last second. She was Gryffindor's great hope. And then she had started fooling around with Scorpius Malfoy. Everyone noticed it at the winter dance, but they all wondered if it had not started before then. When they returned from Christmas break, Malfoy and Lily were practically inseparable. And then, the day before their match against Ravenclaw, Malfoy had been caught, in the buff, in the library, with Davina Baddock. She wasn't even that pretty, Rose thought. Nor very smart. And that one incident was of course enough to ruin whatever Lily and Malfoy had had. Lily, embarrassed and ashamed, cried for days. They lost horribly to Ravenclaw, and were knocked from the runnings. Slytherin ended up winning the cup. And no self-respecting Gryffindor could forgive Scorpius Malfoy. All vowed their revenge.

Rose, of course, blamed herself. She had known, since that night in the infirmary, that Scorpius was not faithful to Lily, and yet she had said nothing to her cousin. Instead, she had let Madame Pomfrey patch her arm and then watched, silently, as Malfoy slid off the bed to wake Lily, and walked the two girls, responsibly, to Gryffindor tower. The next day everyone left for winter holiday and Rose did not even see Malfoy until after break, when they were in potions together, and he was surrounded by his friends, and she was faced with the challenge of brewing up a quite potent draught and that just had to take priority over rehashing any old drama with Scorpius Malfoy. Every day she didn't speak to him reaffirmed to her that the kiss had not been real – he had been drinking, surely, that smell of port – and that she never would talk to him again. Every now and again, when she had quite forgotten the matter, she almost thought she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Scorpius watching her, cautiously. Maybe wondering when she would attack him demanding answers. But she never did. She was not that kind of girl. When Lily and Malfoy abruptly broke up, Rose felt nothing but relief. Watching him now, through the compartment windows, as he squeezed Adeola kissed her on the mouth, it was only briefly that she remembered the feel of his lips on hers, and soon, she was standing, pulling the curtains on the compartment windows, making him disappear. And as she did so she thought, for less than a second, that he met her eye, and that he looked sorry. It must have been a look he had mastered.

****

She found out that she was in fact the top student only they day before the commencement ceremony. She was overjoyed at the news. She had just come from McGonagall's office – they'd had her future to discuss, and, yes, she was sure of her decision – and was running down the hallway, elated, wanting to bump into a friend and spill the good news when instead she crashed smack into Scorpius Malfoy, carrying a terrarium of toads.

"Bloody fuck!" Scorpius cried as the toads went flying, the glass walls of the terrarium shattering as they hit the stone floor. "Watch where you're fucking going!"

It was then that Scorpius looked up from the spill and met her eyes. Immediately his expression flickered before it resettled into a look not of fierce fury, but instead of mild contempt.

"You broke Professor Brocklehurst's terrarium," he said coolly.

"What are you doing with Professor Brocklehurst's terrarium?" She countered.

"I'm proctoring the second year's examination," he answered, already bending down to collect the toads. "And now you've made me late."

She felt sorry, not that she would admit it. Instead, her one gesture of goodwill was to wave her wand and mend the glass walls of the terrarium. Malfoy gently placed the toads he had scooped up inside the reborn cage.

"What were you running to, anyway?" He asked casually as he continued to collect toads. "Our exams are over."

"I was just coming from McGonagall's office-"

"In trouble, are you?"

"No!" She yelped, repulsed and defensive. "She just told me I'm graduating top of our class."

Scorpius froze and looked up at her. The toad he had been grasping took this as an opportunity to make a break for it and easily hopped out of his grip.

"Really?"

"I don't joke about academics."

"I know."

He seemed frozen in that spot now, not caring that the escaping toad was now rounding the corner. Rose took a few steps, bent down, and collected it. She placed it inside the terrarium with the rest.

"You could say congratulations," she prompted, not entirely sure why she was still standing there, why she was wasting her good news on him.

"I know I could," he slowly stood now, "but why would I?" She stared at him, aghast. "Really, why would I congratulate you? I wanted to be top of the class. I worked hard. What did you do? Be the daughter of famous parents? Yeah, that must've been a challenge-"

"If you're suggesting that I didn't work hard for my grades-"

"I'm more than suggesting it," he seemed to puff himself up and grew larger before his eyes, as if he might soon throw a punch, "I'm saying it."

"You're just jealous. Immature and jealous-"

"Merlin's vagina I'm jealous, no, that's not it at all, you don't know me at all, WG, so don't you go spreading rumors-"

"Jealous!" She cried again, louder this time. "You're jealous!"

"Am not!" He pushed her against the wall with a thud. She felt her teeth bang against each other and thought she might have bit her lip as she felt his hands, strong, wrap around her upper arms. He drew close to her, laying all his weight against her. Her arms were beginning to bruise, she could feel it, but she did not yell, nor push him away, nor reach for her wand, which she knew was in her left skirt pocket. She did not try to change her position at all because she could sense what was coming. She knew. And she was looking forward to it. While her brain was still processing her new position and his against her and where their limbs were and how her arms were aching, she felt his lips, fierce, against hers. She closed her eyes and kissed him back. His grip on her arms loosened, and then his hands slid down to her waist and tugged at her shirt tucked into her skirt. There they were in the hallway right around the corner from McGonagall's office, and yet she could not care less if the Headmistress caught them right now, because it was worth it. She reached up and grabbed Malfoy's hair, it ran smooth through her fingers, and she pulled him closer to her. Today he still smelled of clean air and – she was pleased to find – port, but on top of that was the sweat of warm weather, the dirt from the terrarium. Today he felt all knew and familiar all at once.

"Rose," she heard him moan, from deep in his throat it came, and she had never heard her name sound better. "Rose."

"Rose?" A new voice now.

Rose pushed Malfoy away, his body still inclined towards her even as she severed herself and looked over to where the voice had come from. Lily, gorgeous, red haired Lily stood in shock, staring at the pair of them.

"Lily," Rose tried to say, but she was breathless still. But Lily turned, and exited, her running footsteps echoing through the hall as she got further away. "I have to follow her," Rose said at last.

"Why?" Malfoy asked, his mouth parted, his breathing heavy.

"Because," Rose struggled with herself to admit the answer. "Because I have to. Because she's my cousin. Because this is wrong."

She separated herself completely from Scorpius and took off, around the corner, down the hall, but Lily was gone already. By the time she got to the common room, all her friends were huddled around the tearful Lily, protecting her. Rose tried to explain, she wanted to explain, but nobody wanted to listen.

The next day the commencement ceremony was a solemn affair.

As her parents and brother hugged her, as the day was winding down, Headmistress McGonagall approached them.

"I have to admit, I was surprised when I learned Rose's decision." McGonagall said, her voice slow and her words clear. "But I take it you have all discussed the matter thoroughly. And surely, she is a smart girl, she will succeed in whatever she chooses to pursue."

Her mother smiled and patted her hair, but her father looked more confused.

"What'd'ya mean, Minerva?" He asked.

"Well, you know," she could tell McGonagall was trying to find the exact words. "Her decision to attend Muggle university."

Her father's mouth hung open. She knew he was caught between asking for clarification and yelling. And she knew he would eventually decide upon the latter. Yes, she had decided to attend a Muggle university. She'd had enough of this small pond. She was ready to move on. And she'd been thrilled when Hertford College at Oxford University had accepted her to study literature. Muggle literature. Because a prospective future of three years sitting in the Radliffe Camera, reading books, meeting new and different people, it sounded perfect to her. And she knew that, in time, with her mother on her side, her father would come round. Eventually. She was not, she knew, abandoning her family. She just wanted a change. She needed to get out of this enclosed world. Away from her brother and cousins and Scorpius Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis: **DH, mid book AU. Sort of, I tried to blend it? Hermione had sensed it, that night, in Godric's Hollow, that it was meant to happen. And now there had to be consequences. **Chapter 3:** Rose goes to Oxford.  
**Note:** I am posting as I write, no time for proof-reading, and so, please forgive me for the occasional gaffes. They are not made out of ignorance, I assure you, but out of haste. Or somethin'.

**Chapter 3**

Her mother negotiated the compromise which allowed her father to finally give his blessing to the whole idea.

"Your Aunty Muriel has a house there, doesn't she?" Rose overheard her mother ask, late one night, after she knew her parents had thought she'd gone to bed.

"Just a rental property, sits empty most of the time. We could move in, is that what you're saying?"

"No!" Screeched her mother, then there was a pause. When her mum's voice returned again it was quiet once more. "We could ask Muriel if Rose could live there, though. And maybe Muriel could stop in a few times a week. We could put some protective charms on the place-" of course, treat her like a baby "-visit every weekend, you know, just keep an eye out if that's what worries you so much. That way Rosie won't be living in the dormitories, but in a proper wizarding household. What do you say to that?"

Rose waited, fists clenched, eager that she might be close to getting what she wanted now, for her father's reply. Finally, she heard him issue a loud, breathy sigh.

"Ugh…" He paused again. "I still don't like it."

"Well I wasn't exactly thrilled when Hugo told us he was going to play Quidditch professionally-"

"Are you kidding? An offer like that from Puddlemere United and you wanted him to turn it down-"

"I just wasn't thrilled, is all. A Quidditch career is only temporary – stop that, Ron, you know it is – and what if he gets hurt or badly injured and what's he going to do with his life then? I just thought he could delay it a couple years, get some practical post-grad training, some time in a Ministry job before he signed over his life to- Anyway. All I'm saying is, I wasn't thrilled, but I accepted it, because it was what Hugo wanted and I support my children. Attending Oxford is what Rose wants. We should support her. Anyway, it's only three years-"

"Three years in which she could get impregnated by a Muggle!"

"Ron. Trust our daughter. She's a smart girl." A pause. "And anyway, would it be the worst thing in the world, her marrying a Muggle?" Her mother did not leave much time for her father to answer. "No, it wouldn't. So, let her go Ron. She's going to go whether you like it or not so you may as well be on her side."

Another pause.

"Fine," her father said at last. "I'll go visit Aunty Muriel in the morning and see what we can work out."

Without thinking, Rose let out an excited little yelp and jumped in place.

"Rose?"

Oh no, she thought, she was meant to be in her room, not eavesdropping. Without answering, she tiptoed down the short hall to her room, closed the door, performed a muffliato spell and then screamed with joy. She would be going after all.

****

She was pleased to find that her Great Aunty Muriel's house was not as far from her college as she'd feared. A pretty wooden row home on Botley Road with a small flowering dooryard and a hideous view of the big box store directly across the street, the place felt like home the instant Rose saw it.

Her Aunty Muriel assigned her one of the two rooms in the attic – the one with the window overlooking the box store – and she was relieved to find it bright and airy and larger, even, than the tiny room she had in her parents' London flat.

Her mum helped her decorate the room, waving her wand as the bed pulled itself together – purple and white rose sheets, heavy green fleece comforter – and pictures – of her parents, cousins, aunts and uncles, and friends – hung themselves on the walls and her clothes sorted themselves into drawers. Within seconds Rose felt very settled in this place.

"Don't worry, Ronald," stooped Aunty Muriel said as she reached as high as she could to grab and pinch her father's cheeks, "I'll take good care of your little Daisy-"

"Rose," her father corrected through stretched cheeks.

Her aunt abruptly let go.

"Well how am I supposed to keep them all straight? All these flower names anymore, Rose, Lily, Daisy-"

There was no Daisy. And Rose tried her best not to think of her cousin Lily, who she knew still had not forgiven her.

Eventually her parents backed away from Muriel's tight grasp and each gave Rose a final hug, promising to return next weekend, before they disapparated from the entry way.

Muriel, citing a wizard bingo game to get to, left soon after. All alone, lonely, Rose wondered if she had made the right decision.

****

Sitting in the underground college pub after spending an evening researching an essay – The Witch in Pre-French Arthurian Literature – for her favorite tutorial at the Rad Cam, cold glass now in her hand, friends circled around the small table, Rose finally began to feel at ease.

"First kiss, everyone, let's hear it," Howard Bean, a squat young man with buzzed brown hair demanded as he slammed his glass against the table, beer spilling just one more time onto the sticky wooden surface. Three months in and they were still playing getting-to-know-you games, not that she minded at all.

"Well you have to start!" Squealed Geri Jones flirtatiously as she grabbed Howard's arm.

"Fine then. Martha Plump, on the pitch, after a rugby match."

"Martha PLUMP!" Minh Nguyen laughed, then covered her nose with her hand, worried she would start snorting out her drink.

"I assure you, she was anything but. Lovely girl," Howard said, then took a sip of his drink and looked to his right. "Alex?"

"Hmm," Alex scrunched his eyebrows as if in deep thought, "I was thirteen, on holiday with my parents, some Dutch girl I never saw again."

"Not sure I believe that," Geri joked.

"Alright, let's hear yours then."

"Sam Turning, on my doorstep, after my first date. Oi it was horrible! He had the worst breath!"

They all laughed again.

"Alright, Rose, you're awful quiet all of a sudden, your first kiss?" Howard demanded.

"Maybe she hasn't had one yet," Tandi Walker suggested, none-to-playfully. Rose was sure Tandi didn't like her, not that she knew why.

"Beautiful girl like Rose?" Howard said, heartily, and Rose blushed. "Boys've been lining up for ages, I'm sure."

"Not quite," assured Rose. She paused then and took a sip of her drink. A 'Snakebite,' they called it, a college pub favorite, half lager, half cider, and two pumps blackcurrant syrup. She winced a little at the sweetness, then looked around at her friends, watching her, waiting for her answer. "Let's see… Scorpius Malfoy… After the winter dance… I broke my wrist slipping on ice and he escorted me to the infirmary."

There was a pause and Rose wondered, all of a sudden, if she had said something wrong.

"Scorpius Malfoy?" Howard asked, loudly. "SCORPIUS Mal-foy?" He repeated, stressing each syllable. "What kind of pretentious name is that?"

Everyone at the table laughed, even Rose, who had to acknowledge, now that she found herself interacting daily with Howards and Alexes, that Scorpius was a ridiculously pompous name. Fitting, though, she thought.

That night, after three more snakebites and several more going-round-the-table games, Rose found herself too intoxicated to make the now seemingly endless walk back to the house on Botley Road, and was encouraged, by pressing friends, to spend the night in the dorm.

"Come on," Howard whispered in her ear as they supported each other out into the courtyard, then up stairs, then down a hall, she was so tangled in drunkenness the path seemed so confusing now. "I won't bite."

She'd thought the plan was for her to go back with Minh and Geri, but now she felt that she and Howard were pulling away from the rest of the group, hanging back a little, taking a strange turn down a different hallway.

"Come on," he said, tugging her along. Before she knew where they were going, she was there, standing in the bridge. Her college was known for the bridge, which linked the two main quads together. Rose had chosen to apply Hertford College over Christ Church or Magdalen or other prettier colleges because she was sick of spending her days in a castle. Hertford felt shabby and worn and new, all at the same time, like an old coat she would never throw away, even if the lining no longer kept her warm. And Hertford was not entirely plain, after all, it had this bridge. An accidental replica of the Bridge of Sighs – though, she'd been to Venice, and you had to squint to see the resemblance, though it did look strikingly similar to another bridge there – the whole thing was stone and glass strung over New College Lane, the bridge was quite a sight to see from the outside. Inside it smelled musty like wet newspapers and the floor was covered over in unappealing brown carpeting, and even when the moon shown through the windows, like it did tonight, there was very little romance inside the bridge.

"What are we doing here?" Rose managed to ask, sure her words had come out more slurred than she intended. This was not the way to the dorms in Holywell quad, she knew.

"Shh," Howard said.

Next thing she knew he was pushing her against a window, very gently, it could hardly be called pushing at all, and bringing his face in close to hers. As Howard Bean kissed her, Rose thought back to her last kiss, which had also taken place against a wall, and she longingly thought of how much pressure had been upon her and building up in her then, of the excitement of the moment. Now all she felt was vague nausea from drinking so much on an empty stomach and the slime of Howard Bean's tongue in her mouth. She coughed a little. She smelled the mildewed carpet. She waited for Howard to finish and pull away.

"I really should be getting home," she said when he finally stepped back.

"No," he cooed, "don't, come sleep in my room."

"No, I don't think that'd be a good idea," she countered rationally.

"Well…" He paused. He looked down and tried to kick the floor but missed and reached out an arm against the wall to keep his balance. "Well… At least come back to the dorms with me, I'll walk you over to Minh and Geri's room. You can stay there."

And so they walked off the bridge, leaving the way they'd come. A few times Howard tried to hold her hand, but each time she pulled hers away, trying to be subtle about it, pretending she had to scratch her nose or rub her eyes or smooth her hair. Eventually Howard deposited her in front of a sturdy brown door.

"'Night," she said, already grasping the knob. Howard leaned in for another kiss, and she turned her head so that he caught her cheek instead. "Thanks for walking me here."

"Not a problem," Howard said blankly, then turned and started down the hall.

Minh and Geri, already in their beds, were surprised to see her.

"Thought I saw you walk off with Howard," Geri said coldly as she tossed a pillow to the floor for Rose's use.

"No," Rose said, closing her eyes and already feeling herself drift off. "No, I just wandered off for awhile. Nothing major. Nothing happened."

And she was asleep.

****

Her father was furious.

"You. Didn't. Come. Home!" He screamed at her through the fireplace.

"I told you, I was studying late, and then slept over with some friends-"

"Some BOY friends?" Her father asked, angry, then his face disappeared, and her mother's replaced it.

"Rosie, honey, you know we trust you-"

"No we don't!" She heard her father shout in the background.

"Yes, we do," her mother started again, patiently. "But you know the procedure. If you think you're going to be staying over somewhere, just give us a call and let us know."

The week Rose signed up for university officially, her mother had gone out and purchased two mobile phones, one for each of them. She coached Rose on how to use it and then told her that she could use it anytime, that this way she could get in touch with her Muggle friends and blend in better and, and Rose was sure this was the real reason her mother had given her the phone, call home anytime she felt she needed to.

"I'll call next time, I promise. Last night it just… slipped my mind." It had, too.

"I'm afraid there's not going to be a next time."

As her mother said the words, Rose felt her heart clench and rise into her throat. No, no they couldn't be pulling her out of school. She'd just started. She was just beginning to make friends and enjoy herself. No, this couldn't be happening-

"But mum-" Her whine didn't get very far before her mother cut her off.

"No, no, that's not how I meant that, we're not pulling you out of school."

"We should though!" Her father's voice boomed in the background.

"We just want more assurance that you're there, at home, at Muriel's, where you should be at night. So, we asked Muriel to either spend more time with you-" Images of her and her hundred-thirty-something-year-old-aunt playing cards and wizarding bingo together on Friday nights flashes before her eyes. "-OR to take on another boarder, a responsible adult who can be there to chaperone you." Now she was imagining a clone of her mother, sitting there with her, watching her write her essays and making 'tsks' sounds every time she misspelled a word. "Muriel put the word out that she's looking to take on boarders. Apparently there are a few wizarding fellows she's heard of, good responsible sorts-"

"Witch fellows! Witch fellows!" Her father was shouting.

"Yes, well, whatever gender, a grown up will be moving in with you. It will make us feel better. You understand, don't you dear?"

Rose did not want to say yes and so she just shrugged noncommittally, all the while, begrudgingly, acknowledging that perhaps this wouldn't be terrible. A fellow would very often be busy, she suspected, and certainly would not make Rose his or her top priority. She would likely still have the same amount of freedom. Maybe more, now that her parents wouldn't be checking up on her every other second.

"Alright," her mother said, smiling. "Then it's settled."

****

It was two more weeks before her Aunty Muriel found someone she trusted enough to let a room too.

"Why should I trust them?" She had asked. "Something suspicious about a fellow applying to _pay_ to live here when they can live at their college for free."

"But maybe they want the freedom to do magic at home," suggested Rose, though internally she admitted her aunt did have a point. "Or maybe they just get tired of being surrounded by Muggles all day long. Or maybe they just get tired of being surrounded by students all day long." She tried to posit more suggestions, but her aunt rejected them all.

"Bah," Muriel said.

At last, just as Rose was beginning to think no one would live up to Aunty Muriel's high standards, she came home one evening to find her aunt with a man in the kitchen.

"Ah, Daisy-" she never would get the name right "-come here and meet your baby sitter-"

She didn't know what to correct first. Her name was Rose, she'd reminded her aunt a thousand times. And this man was not her baby sitter. He was just a wizard fellow who wanted a wizarding house to live in.

"Hi," the man said simply, extending a hand, and Rose forgot everything she had meant to say.

The man was small, even an inch shorter than her maybe, not that that was surprising, she was tall for a girl, but his body was compact and well built, she could tell, by the cut of his brown trousers and the just-to-there-unbuttoned light blue collared shirt. But his body, well built as it was, was not what grabbed her attention. His face looked so familiar, achingly so. He had bright green eyes – just like her cousin Albus' eyes, she noted – and soft looking umber hair that fell in loose curls around his face, not entirely dissimilar from her own, though hers was lighter by a shade or two. His nose was button-like, but not overly so, and his chin was square, but not too square, just strong looking. His lips were a very nice shape. He was altogether handsome. And Rose felt, deeply within her, that she had met him before.

"Hullo," she said, finally taking his hand and shaking it.

"I'm Tom. Tom King. I'm at Magdalen. You're at Hertford, right? I think that's what your aunt said?"

He spoke with an accent.

"Yes," she nodded, finally snapping to. Fancy that, her aunt could remember her college but not her name. "And my name's Rose."

"Daisy, Rose, all the same." Aunty Muriel threw up her arms in annoyance.

"Rose, eh? That's nicer than Daisy."

"I think so," Rose agreed. She smiled at the man, Tom. She liked him already, she could tell. Felt at ease with him.

"Look's like Ginevra's husband, what's his name, the famous one, you know, doesn't he?" Aunty Muriel asked.

Maybe, perhaps, in a distant way, the same way she had thought he resembled Albus. But, no, she felt as if she knew him, entirely on his own, as well.

"A bit," she finally acknowledged.

"Famous, eh?" Tom smiled an easy smile. "It'd be nice to look like someone famous. No one's ever told me that before."

"Where are you from, exactly?" Rose said, trying to sound adult, but also unable to place the accent and curious to know.

"Melbourne, Australia, originally. But my dad and I left shortly after my mom died," he did not pause for the women to offer him sympathy. "Traveled around after that, all over, circled the globe at least three times by age seventeen. Then I came here to study. And stayed. So, I know, my accent's hard to place, isn't it?"

Rose nodded.

"I'll show you to your room, Tom. You'll be taking the one right next to Daisy in the attic. You're free to use anything here on the ground level, but stay out of my room on the first floor, it's private."

"Alright," Tom said. Rose doubted he had been tempted to peek into Muriel's private room.

Muriel guided the three of them up the stairs – Rose tagged along, because she felt she should – then left, likely not to return for another month. Rose sat in her room, on her bed, book in her hands, but all she could do was think about the strange, familiar man who was in the process of unpacking in the room next to her. She heard the usual bangs and claps of things being arranged, stowed away, and hung on walls. She was curious to see what the room would look like now. She'd gotten used to never thinking of it. In fact, she'd become accustomed to thinking of the attic as entirely her own, not even rented out from Muriel, because she so rarely stopped by. Rose loved this top most floor of the house, the way the ceiling sloped sharply to accommodate the roof, the way the soft carpet padded her feet when walked down the almost-too-brief-to-exist hall to use the bathroom with its skylight windows above the tub. Oh no. The bathroom. She had not even thought of that. She would have to share it now, with this stranger. And all of the embarrassing things she kept in there. Tampons and such. Immediately she rose from her bed and headed towards the bathroom, hoping she could sneak out her personal belongings before Tom noticed them or her. But it was too late. As soon as she stepped out into the hallway she saw Tom through his open door. He caught her eye and gave a small wave.

"Hey," he said. "This isn't bad for an attic room."

"No, it's not," she said, frozen to her spot. "Mine's nice too."

"Oh yeah? Mind if I take a look? I was trying to figure out how to arrange my furniture, maybe seeing yours will inspire me."

Before she could say 'No' – and she couldn't say no could she? That would be unthinkably rude – he was stepping out into the hallway and then into her room. He surveyed it casually.

"Nice. I like what you've done with the space."

"Yeah," she nodded, blankly. "Really my mum did most of it, she's a real whiz with organization." As soon as she said it she regretted it, not only because it made her sound young – talking about her mummy? – but also because, she remembered, Tom had lost his mother, and perhaps by mentioning hers so soon, she was being insensitive. Oh no.

"Oh yeah?" He moved around the room, taking in the details, stopping, now and again, to push in the desk chair or gently nudge the waste bin with his foot. "Maybe she could do mine then too." He'd said it in a friendly way. She felt relieved. Tom was standing in front of her picture wall now. He looked closely at the people in the photographs as they waved back at him. "Huh," he said, breathily. "Is this Ginevra's famous husband?" Indeed, he was pointing at a picture of her Uncle Harry.

"Yeah," she nodded, taking a step closer to him. "My Aunt Ginny and my Uncle Harry, and their kids, James, Albus, and Lily. Albus is my age. He's training to be an Auror."

"That right?"

She knew by his tone that she had over-shared. Why would he want to know about her cousin's age and occupation? Really?

"And what was your uncle's name again?"

She almost couldn't believe him when he asked.

"Harry. Like, you know, Harry Potter." She looked at him, he stared blankly back at her. "Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. You know? THE Harry Potter."

Tom shrugged.

"Never heard of him. Must be an English thing." He moved on to another photo, one of her with her mum and dad and Hugo. "This your family?"

"Yeah."

"Nice," he said, casually. "Your brother really looks like your dad."

"He does, doesn't he? Which is just great. Because he's my dad's favorite. I know. Plays Quidditch with Puddlemere United."

"I don't follow Quidditch."

"Me either, really. I mean, I do, for Hugo, but beyond that…" She shrugged. "But Quidditch, that'll get you everywhere with my dad. He's a big fan. Me, I don't know, I'm not very good at it, I'm not particularly fond of heights, and I just get nervous every time I watch a match. Which wins me no points with my father. And coming to a Muggle university, that won me even less…" She laughed, or tried to, and then asked the question she'd been wanting to ask since she'd seen Tom in the kitchen. "What are you doing here? At Oxford, I mean? What drew you away from the wizard world?"

"I don't know," Tom shrugged, and took a step away from the pictures. "I wasn't really brought up in the wizarding world, really. Dad home-schooled me while we traveled, half the places we went there were no real magic communities to speak of. I'm not sure, exactly what made me decide on Oxford." He paused, and took a step closer to the door, then stopped. "I have vague memories of coming to England when I was maybe thirteen. I don't know why I don't remember it clearer. But the one thing I do remember, sharply, is my dad driving me through Oxford and telling me 'Look at these castles. Be nice to live here, wouldn't it?' And I thought, yeah, it would. And it stuck in my mind ever since. Became a goal of mine, I guess, to come here."

"And that's why you're at Magdalen? It's very castle-like-"

"And Oscar Wilde went there, and I'm wild about him." He paused. "You know Oscar Wilde?" She shook her head. "Muggle thing, I guess. I'll lend you some of his stuff. Consider it an assignment, of sorts. You'll love it, I can tell."

****

As soon as she finished the conversation with her brother – over the phone, she must remember to say to her friends, not that they would consider any other way of communication – Rose nearly ran to the Hertford pub to find her friends and tell them her big news.

"He's getting married!" She cried, snakebite in her hand, Howard, Alex, Minh, Geri, and, unfortunately, Tandi, crowded around her. "He's getting married and he's only nineteen!"

Really, the engagement was not entirely unexpected, but that upset Rose even more. Looking into her brothers brown eyes as he stood before her in the Botley living room only earlier that day, she could hardly believe that this man standing there was the same boy who had so frequently teased her over the years. Now he seemed more grown, mature, even. It was odd for him.

"We're in love," Hugo said, wasting no time after apparating into the entry way. "Zoe and I are in love and I proposed and she said yes."

"Don't you think it's a little… soon?" Rose asked when she knew she should have offered congratulations.

"How do you mean?" Hugo took a seat in Aunty Muriel's favorite chair, the big plush, purple crushed velvet one that she herself usually avoided. "We've been together since fifth year. You remember, the winter dance?"

"Yes, I know that, but, I mean… You're only nineteen. And you've a whole career ahead of you! You're a starting player on a major league Quidditch team! That's really something, do you really want to give that up?"

"No, of course not!" Hugo shook his head emphatically as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Since Zoe plays for the Harpies, we were hoping either she'd get transferred to Puddlemere, or we'd both get traded to another team together, if we could finagle it-"

"Couldn't you just move in together? Do you have to get married?" This was what Rose found most repulsive about the wizarding community.

"It's only natural," shrugged Hugo. "I love her, she loves me, we're both adults now-"

"Are you?" Rose asked. "Because I seem to remember you requesting footie pajamas last Christmas-"

"My feet get cold in bed!"

"Hugo!"

They remained in silence for a moment.

"Well I'm getting married whether you like it or not. Thought I'd do you the courtesy of telling you before mum and dad- Alright, fine, I just wanted to work up the nerve by telling you first, and you haven't exactly made that easy, have you? I'm marrying Zoe, though. Whether you like it or not." He paused. "Pending the blood test of course."

"Blood test? Why, you've got Chlamydia or something?"

"No! And how do you know what that-" He stopped himself when he saw the look on her face. "No, a paternity test, of sorts. Zoe's mum's a single parent and used donor sperm so, just as a precaution, we just have to make sure her father's not our dad before we officially tie the knot."

"You really think dad would've donated to a sperm bank?"

"I don't know. Could have. Poor, young wizard, needed money fast-"

"Have you donated to a sperm bank?!"

"No, but I'd make a pretty galleon if I did. Quidditch star that I am." Hugo smiled as Rose groaned. "Anyway, it's just a precaution. Required by law, that's all. A formality. I love Rose, and I'm sure she's not my half sister, and we are going to get married and be together forever. And, honestly Rose, I thought you'd be happier for me than this."

And maybe she should've been happier for him. Her brother was marrying a girl he loved. But that was it. Zoe was no more than a girl, only a year older than herself, and she certainly couldn't imagine being wed within a year. The wizarding world encouraged this, this pairing up and off and marrying at too young an age. And Rose just couldn't approve. Of course her brother didn't see her side of things and left in a huff. Without Tom home to complain to – he was off, as he frequently was, busy being a fellow – Rose had heady back into town, to the college, to commiserate with her friends. After she told them the whole story – or, half the story, the non-magical part of the story, the gist of the story she told herself – she watched their faces as they came to their conclusions.

"It's disgusting, isn't it, marrying at nineteen!" Rose looked around for support.

"I don't know," Geri sighed, "sounds romantic." Then she very pointedly grabbed Howard's arm, which he rather quickly pulled away.

"What's your brother do for a living?" Tandi asked. Crap, she hadn't even thought of an answer to that.

"He's a… He's… It's hard to explain, really… He's…"

"Can't be that close if you don't even know what your brother does, can you?" Tandi smiled a smile she was sure was not meant to be nice.

"I know what he does," Rose snapped. "Something financial. Something with finances."

"Without even having attending university?" Rose wished Tandi would shut up.

"It's complicated," she said simply. "Anyway, the issue here is, my brother is getting married and he's far too young to be doing so! He can't commit himself to another person for the rest of his life, he can hardly commit himself to a favorite-" she was going to say 'broom' but then thought against it "-footie team!"

"That's serious, then," Howard said, nodding. "And what do your parents say about this?"

"They don't know yet," Rose answered. "But knowing them… They were school sweethearts themselves, though they waited before marrying, but still… It's just what they do where I come from-"

"Aren't you from London?" Tandi cut her off.

Damn.

"Yes, well, London, yes, I am, but I mean, where I'm from, as in, the school that I'm from, the people that it breeds."

"The fancy boarding school in… Switzerland, was it?"

"Yes," Rose nodded emphatically, glad she had created that cover story for Hogwarts. She drank deeply from her snakebite. "That's why I came here, to get away from that mentality, and, I don't know… I just don't want to see my brother falling into those same pratholes. Emphasis on the prat."

Her friends laughed. They didn't really understand. Because they didn't really know where she was coming from.

Later that night, after a couple more drinks, they headed out to the kebab van parked on Catte Street before parting ways for the night.

After collecting her chips smothered in hummus which she intended to take home and eat in her own pity party, Rose hugged her friends goodbye and took off down the road.

"Wait up," she heard a voice calling. She turned to see that it was, unfortunately, Tandi. "I'm going that way too."

"Why?" She rethought that. "I mean, you live in Holywell, don't you?"

"Yeah," Tandi nodded, "but I have things to do."

"At this time?"

"Yes, grandma, at this time." Tandi gave her a look that told Rose she was pathetic. Oh well, then.

They walked at first in silence, then Tandi struck up conversation again.

"I don't see what's so wrong about your brother getting married. If he's in love."

"But how does he know that he's in love? He's only nineteen!"

"He says he's in love, doesn't he? Why don't you trust him?"

Rose gave a 'hrrumph' and they continued in silence again.

"Glad to see you and Geri are getting on again," Tandi finally said.

"When weren't Geri and I getting on?"

"You know…" Tandi drew out her syllables. "When you and Howard did it in the bridge? She fancies him. She was jealous."

Rose was taken back.

"What?"

"I know, I don't know what she sees in him either. Though, then again, I guess you do-"

"No! I mean, Howard and I never- I would never- Really, never is not a strong enough word-"

"So you two didn't make it in the bridge?"

"No! Of course not!"

"I heard you did."

"Well we didn't!" She paused, aghast, too angry for words for a moment. Then, finally. "He kissed me. That was it. I didn't even kiss him back."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Huh. You should probably tell people that then. Because everyone's saying that you and he had sex-"

"We did not. We will never. Never."

"Sure, right, well, here is where I turn."

They'd reached the turn off for Osney Island.

"What are you doing here?" Rose was genuinely curious, it was a dark little section of town, no clubs or even pubs to speak of. The whole place was usually dark by early evening.'

"Like I said," Tandi shrugged, "things to do."

And with that she walked off into the dark and Rose was left alone with her disgust. Sleep with Howard Bean? She would never! And Hugo marrying Zoe Chang? Well, she'd see what she could do about that.

****

"I don't know if I can say," Tom shook his head when Rose approached him with the issue of Hugo's engagement. "I've never met your brother, nor his fiancée, have I? Could be they're perfect for each other."

"No," she shook her head fiercely. "I mean, maybe they are, but it's too soon, isn't it? I mean, just saying, Hugo isn't exactly the most mature mead in the shop, you know?"

Tom just shrugged.

They were standing in the entrance of the Rad Cam. She'd just been entering, intending to find her favorite spot at her favorite table on the ground floor, while she'd caught Tom exiting, coming down the spiral staircase.

"I don't know that I'm an authority on marriage," Tom said, hoisting his bag from one shoulder to the other, preparing for the security guard to search it, looking for books taken without permission from this non-lending library. "I can't even remember my parents' marriage."

Rose was struck by a sudden burst of pity. Of course, she'd been so insensitive, talking about marriage with a man who didn't even have a family. Or didn't have a mother, at least.

Just then, she felt someone poking at her shoulder.

"Rose?"

It was Tandi Walker.

"Oh, hi Tandi, just leaving, are you?"

"No," Tandi shook her head. "Taking a dinner break. I'll be back." Rose caught her eying Tom. "Who's your friend here?"

"Tom, Tom King," Tom extended his hand, politely.

"Pleasure," Tandi purred.

"He's a fellow, a tutor at Magdalen," Rose informed.

"Really? You know, I was considering Magdalen-"

"Really?"

"Yes, the college of Oscar Wilde, that's really something. But then, Hertford had Jonathan Swift, and that's not easily topped."

"No, it's not," Tom agreed with a smile. "And you are?"

"Tandi Walker, a friend of Rose's."

Sure, Rose thought, real friend.

"Well," said Tom, "It was nice meeting you, Tandi. Interesting name-"

"My mum's from Algeria, lived in France all my life, but Alergian by heritage, and my father is English, and I suppose 'Tandi' was a compromise between them." Tandi smiled a wide smile. It almost seemed genuine.

"I spent some time in Algeria when I was younger. And I'm a big fan of Camus-"

"Me as well!" Exclaimed Tandi. "And you're a friend of Rose's?"

"Family friend-"

"Well, then, I suppose we'll bump into each other again, unless, you weren't just leaving, were you?"

"I was, in fact."

"And so was I! What a coincidence! Would you fancy finding dinner together? I know a really lovely place just down the street here, a converted church, has the best sandwiches now-"

"That sounds nice," Tom said. Rose could not tell if he was just being polite.

"Well, then, we should go!" Tandi turned to Rose, who was sure she had forgotten her. "See you later, Rose. In the pub, perhaps."

"Yes, sure, see you later, Tandi." And then, because they were already turning towards the security guard who would check their bags, and because she could not resist it. "And see you at home Tom!"

With that, Rose walked into the main study room, towards the desk where she would pick up the books she'd requested, all the while smiling to herself. Tandi would be so jealous, realizing that they lived together. But then, what exactly did she have to be jealous of? Tom wasn't her- I mean, certainly not- He was so much older than her- Six years, at least, and that seemed like a long time- And he was mature too- Too mature for Tandi, certainly. Certainly.

She walked to the desk to collect her books and tried her hardest not to think on it anymore.

****

She sat up waiting for Tom to get home that night. When he came into the living room, though, she was not quite sure what to say to him, and so all she offered was a brief 'hullo' and then they both went off to bed. There was nothing between him and Tandi, surely. And if there was, it would hardly matter to her. Really. It was just that Tandi bothered her so. Yes, that was it. Tandi was annoying. It was her fault Rose couldn't fall asleep that night.

****

Fancy guests would be debating at the Union that evening and so she decided to attend. That, and, Tom had told her he would be there, just as Tandi had agreed to going, and so, Rose felt she needed to be there to moderate. She had not actually attended a debate at the Union before. Sure, she had used its library – stocked fully with books by Muggle authors which Tom kept recommending to her – and even visited its adjacent bar, the Purple Turtle, because she'd heard such buzz about it, but she hadn't yet participated in the one event the place was really known for.

That evening a famous American politician would be coming to argue against a man she was sure was a closeted-wizard in a debate about universal healthcare. The crowd gathered outside on the lawn, not wandering into the main hall yet, where the pre-debate was still being led by underclassmen, and that was where she found her friends, drinking Pimms they'd found on sale for 25p a cup, for charity, on the street outside. She graciously accepted a gulp from Minh's cup.

"Glad to see you here tonight," Howard slapped her arm. She noticed Geri's sudden frown, and so took a few steps to the left.

"Well, yes, of course, I didn't want to miss out," she said, wiping the Pimms from her lips.

"And your flatmate's going to be here tonight, isn't he?" Asked Tandi.

"Yeah, we hardly known anything about this debonair man," Geri continued.

"He's hardly debonair," she answered, watching Howard and Alex sigh with relief. "You should see the mess he leaves in the kitchen each morning-"

The group laughed. The subject changed to the debate they were about to witness.

"I know that I am firmly against socialized medicine," Howard proclaimed, going with the conversation. Just one more strike against him, Rose thought. "My parents have been paying for the masses for too long now!"

There was an awkward silence. Fortunately, Tom's entrance broke it.

"Rose, glad I found you, big crowds here tonight." He was not hugging her exactly, but he might as well have been, his armed loosely finding her shoulders as it was.

"Everyone, this is Tom," Rose motioned to the man beside her. "Tom, this is everyone. Minh, Geri, Howard, Alex, and-"

"You remember me, don't you?" Tandi extended her hand.

Tom smiled as he shook it.

"Yes, of course," he said.

Together they all made pleasant chit-chat until the debate-proper was about to begin, at which point they all lined up to enter the hall, which look, inside, like a church, Rose noted. She made sure she was seated on a pew between Tom and Tandi, keeping the two apart. She did not know why she felt the urge to keep them apart as strongly as she did.

****

Towards the end of Michaelmas term, with the cold settling in, and the daylight lasting barely seven hours, Rose was ready to return home for the holidays. She was relieved that her brother had not yet announced his engagement to their parents – the blood test results still weren't back yet, not that that should be holding Hugo back – and thought that this year's celebrations would be a nice family reunion. She was, oddly, looking forward to returning to her parents' London flat more than she ever had while at Hogwarts.

On the final day before she left, she met her friends at the Turf Tavern down the street from Hertford College, and drank more pints than she could recall ordering to celebrate.

"To our future!" Alex cried. Already they were on their fortieth toast, at least.

"To our future!" They all echoed.

"And to getting high marks!" Minh proclaimed. They all drank deep again.

"To getting high marks!" They repeated.

They all broke into laughter, loose and easy. Geri raised her glass now, and Rose was preparing to copy whatever her friend said, when all of a sudden her attention was drawn away, to the window, where she heard a consistent tapping, familiar sound.

Geri continued with her toast, and everyone cheered, expect for Rose who was fixated on the window now where, just as she had dreaded, an owl now tapped against the glass persistently.

"I have to go out side for a second," Rose said abruptly, hoping not to spoil her friends' fun. "I need to get some air."

"Awww!" Was the collective group cry, still, they let her move away from the table and towards the exit. She was almost at the door when she heard Tandi's voice.

"Wait! I'll come with you!"

She could hardly say no, could she, already grasping the doorknob as she was? She knew the second she stepped outside that owl would deposit whatever post it had straight into her hands. Perhaps she could play it off. She tried to think, but alcohol impeded her brain. Think, she demanded of herself, why might an owl be following her, what excuse could she make to Tandi?

It was too late for excuses, of course, and Tandi – reaching the door before she full pushed it open – pressed her weight against the exit and soon they were both standing out in the empty cobblestone street.

"Ah, fresh air-" Rose began feebly. Then, just as she knew it would, the owl swooped in.

Oh no. She thought. Oh no. What would excuse this? What could excuse this?

But then, just as she'd lost all hope, just as she'd drunkenly begun reaching for the want hidden deep within the concealed pocket of her messenger bag so that she might perform an obliviate charm, the owl stopped, fluttering its wings in front of them, and dropped its letter squarely in Tandi's hands. Oh no, she thought. This was even worse than she'd expected. A dumb owl. This one dumb owl had possibly ruined her future at school-

But then, something she had not expected happened.

Tandi, not mentioning the owl at all, regarded the letter in her hands only briefly before tearing it open and pulling out the contents. She read, in silence, and Rose remained silent, next to her. Finally, after too much time had passed, after she'd felt too much time had passed, Tandi looked over at her, simply.

"It's your brother," she said. "Something's happened to him."

Rose stood there in shock. Her brother? Her brother Hugo? Why would Tandi know if anything had happened to him, why had Tandi so easily accepted the letter from the owl, just opened it and read it as if she was used to the whole mail system?

"I- How- You-" Was all Rose could mutter, alcohol burning up her brain.

"Come on," Tandi grabbed her arm, authoritative and sober all of a sudden, "We'd best get to the house on Botley. Your parents will be waiting for you soon enough, they'll want to know you're safe at least. Come on." And even though Tandi was tugging at her right wrist, the wrist she had broken only two years before, nearly to the day, Rose could not make herself move. "Come on!" Tandi demanded again, with force this time. And this time Rose moved. Wondering. Curious. Her head too full to even try to figure out what was happening right now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** Post-DH now, though it split, mid book AU. Sort of, I tried to blend it? Hermione had sensed it, that night, in Godric's Hollow, that it was meant to happen. And now there had to be consequences. **Chapter 4:** The aftermath of the attack on Hugo brings Rose face to face with people she hasn't seen in quite awhile. Also, more life at Oxford.  
**Note:** I know, I know, I apologize for any typos, which I really should proof read for before posting, but who has the time?  
**Other Note:** I'm having a lot of fun writing this. I hope it's not coming off too Mary-Sue-ish.  
**And Again:** So… "Magdalen College" is pronounced "Maudlin College." Just 'cause it is. Like, actually. I sound like a pretentious ass hole.

**Chapter 4**

Tom wasn't there when she arrived home, Tandi in tow, and so her first instinct was to try and summon her Aunty Muriel. After sticking her head into the fireplace, whispering the appropriate charms, and then shouting her aunt's name issued no reply, it was finally Tandi who pulled her back into the living room.

"Best try calling your parents now," she said.

She tried, as she had before, using floo communications, but when that didn't work – her parents must be asleep in their room, unable to hear her calls coming from the fireplace – Tandi urged her to use her mobile.

"Go on," she said, "You know how to dial, don't you?"

She did, she wanted to say, but then she remembered that she'd only just learned how to use the device, and her skills were nothing to brag about. So instead she just found her mother's mobile number in her contact list and pressed the 'Send' button, held the little device cautiously up to her ear, and soon the phone was ringing on the other end.

"Hullo?" Came her mother's voice, groggy. It was nearly two in the morning.

"Mum, it's Rose."

"Rose," her mother's voice sounded suddenly awake. "Is everything alright?"

"No, mum, no, it's Hugo-"

"Hugo?"

"He's been hurt, mum, he's at Saint Mungo's-"

"I'll be there in ten minutes," her mother said tersely, without asking for anymore details. The phone went dead. Her mother had hung up on her. Maybe expecting she'd already be waiting in the hospital lobby.

"I'll come with you," Tandi said suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"To Saint Mungo's. You can't very well go by yourself, can you? Look at you, you're drunk as a skunk right now."

Rose looked down at herself. It was true she looked… not her best… But her brother had just been severely injured and she wanted details and she did not particularly care how she looked right now. Meanwhile, she was not quite comfortable with the idea of Tandi bossing her around, let alone the idea that Tandi would know what Saint Mungo's was. She wanted answers, she decided, but before she could say as much aloud, Tandi was grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the entryway.

"You can apparate out but not in?" She asked. "And only from the entryway? Clever bit of magic, that."

Rose wanted to ask exactly what she meant by this when, before she knew it, she was twisting inside and out, her breath stopped, her chest imploding under the pressure, and then she was standing in the great marble entryway of Saint Mungo's.

"Hello," a nurse at the visitor's stand said as she held out a clipboard towards them. "If you'll kindly fill this out and I'll be with you in a moment."

Tandi took the clipboard. There was a pop, and then another, and Rose looked over to see her parents, obviously hastily dressed in whatever clothes had been nearest to them, approach.

"Rose!" Her mother exclaimed as she grabbed her and hugged her tight.

"Mr. Weasley," Tandi said curtly to Rose's father as Rose, watching from where her head was forced down against her mother's bossom, looked on in awe.

"Ms. Walker," her father said, nodding curtly at the girl she had come to think of as a friend. Alright. Not friend, exactly. But a Muggle certainly, and someone with whom she spent time, in the company of friends.

"I got the owl shortly past the hour and extricated Rose from her Muggle friends immediately, brought her home as soon as possible, and had her notify you."

"Good work, Ms. Walker," her father nodded. What was going on here? Tandi merely gently inclined her head towards her father, a curt nod, and then sat back, silent. All four together, they waited, in silence, for the mediwizards to give them news.

At long last, a long hour later, a wizened old witch came out to greet them and to take her parents in to see Hugo.

"You don't mind waiting out here, do you Rose?" Her mother asked as she inched towards the door that would lead her to intensive care unit where Hugo now was. "They don't want him to have too many visitors at once, but your father and I will be back, promise, and we'll tell you all we learn."

Rose, tired and now feeling the first stings of a hangover, and confused and angry on top of that, waved her parents away. They weren't gone ten minutes when her eyelids started to droop and she heard Tandi's voice again.

"Everything I've told you is true, you know?" Tandi said, drawing her back awake. "How I grew up, splitting my time between England and France – went to Beauxbatons. When I graduated, I just decided I liked England better, or I wanted to distance myself from my mum, I suppose, if I'm being honest, and so I applied to the Ministry here for a job." She paused, waiting for Rose to say something, which she didn't. "So, anyway," she said after a time, "I'm training to be an Auror. In my third year, now, very close to being certified. You're my final assignment, you might say." She paused again, again Rose said nothing. "Work for your uncle, I do." Another pause, longer. "Rose? You going to say something?"

Rose thought about it for a moment.

"If you were hired to baby sit me, why've you been such a horrible cow all this time?"

"Excuse me?" Tandi sounded almost offended. Not that Rose could blame her. She didn't like being called a 'horrible cow' either. "You haven't exactly been the easiest person to get along with, now have you? Rejected all my early offers of friendship. Only treated you as you treated me."

Rose thought about this, trying to remember if this was true. But the thinking made her head hurt worse.

"Whatever," she finally said, with disgust and annoyance, maybe at herself, and definitely at her aching head. Then she stood.

"Where're you going?"

"Why, want to follow me? Report back to my dad and uncle that I was standing, unsupervised?"

"I was only curious-"

"My head hurts. I'm hung over, if you must know, and hungry, and tired, and I just want to pop down into the cafeteria if I could to get some food and water and a soothing charm, if that's alright with you."

"Want me to come with-"

"No," Rose said coldly, officially, she hoped, and then she took off.

She'd only been to Saint Mungo's once before, when she was a little girl, she hardly remembered the reason now. She'd been playing, or something, and fallen, she guessed, or worse, though she didn't know what. And it hadn't been the same day as the fall, but the next, that her mother had brought her in, just to be examined, just in case. The story didn't exactly click into sense as she thought about it now. She must have forgotten some important detail. Her mother was a very capable witch, and any cuts or bruises she'd incurred, she knew her mother could have healed those on her own. So something else must have happened to drive her to the hospital, but Rose couldn't think of what. Still, she'd checked out fine and at the end of the day, as a reward for behaving so well, her mum had taken her down to the cafeteria and let her pick out any treat she'd wanted. She'd chosen a chocolate frog, she remembered suddenly. It had come with a trading card with a picture of her Uncle Harry on it. And that had seemed very apt at the time, before she knew what the word 'apt' meant. And she'd forgotten the whole incident until right now.

Down in the cafeteria, Rose quickly found what she was looking for. A tall glass of water, a few thick slices of brown bread, and a hard-boiled egg made her feel instantly better. Sitting at a small metal table by herself, enjoying the peace of the moment, her mind finally fell back upon her brother Hugo, who was somewhere upstairs being tended to. She felt a pang of guilt for forgetting him until right now, and then more guilt for the way she'd been going around bad-mouthing him lately, ever since he'd told her about his engagement plans. She shouldn't have done that. She should have trusted her brother. If he told her he was in love than surely he was and surely he knew what he was doing, and who was she to judge him like she had? She was thinking all this as she prepared to clear her place at the table when the chair across from her suddenly pulled out, and then a familiar face sat down, and stared her square in the eyes.

"Thought that was you," Scorpius Malfoy said, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "You look red. Been crying?" She did not answer. "'Spect you have. Heard about your brother. Only a little, I mean. What happened to him, do they know yet?" She continued to stare in disbelief. She had not seen Scorpius Malfoy since their last day at Hogwarts, and they had not spoken since the day before that, when he'd been upset and kissed her in the hallway, and Lily had spotted them. "Fine then, don't answer me."

He began to rise when Rose reached out an arm, reflexively, as a gesture meant to welcome him to stay, and he did. She took her arm back before he could touch it. Not that he would have touched if she'd left it out on the table for him.

"I don't know yet," she finally said, "about Hugo. You probably know more than I do."

"Just heard he was brought in, that's all."

"Oh." She said. "Then I guess we know about the same."

A silence fell upon them.

"So…" He said, looking uncomfortable and possibly regretting his decision to sit down with her. "How's life as a Muggle?"

"I'm not living as a Muggle-"

"Still at Muggle university?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then you're living like a Muggle." He paused. "I've been here. Training. To be a mediwizard, you know."

"I vaguely remember hearing that that's what you wanted to be-"

"Really?" He asked. "Don't remember ever telling you."

"Well I heard it somewhere," she said. She knew exactly where and when she'd heard it. Lily had told her.

"How's your family, massive brood that they are, all your cousins and such? I mean, your brother's here and that's not good, but the rest of them, how are they?"

"Don't really know," she shook her head. And this was the truth. She got letters and updates from her parents, of course, telling her just how everyone in the family was faring, but she hadn't actually spoken with her cousins in quite some time, and so it seemed odd to gossip about them now. But then Malfoy wasn't asking the question expecting a big, general answer she reasoned. He was probably asking after one cousin in particular. "Haven't spoken to Lily in some time. Don't know how she's doing. Suppose she's well, I guess."

"Well, that's nice."

Their conversation, which had not been comfortable since the start, was now dragging on too long. She was shifting in her chair, not at all at ease, her head beginning to ache once more, and thoughts of Hugo once again filling up her mind.

"You have a headache?" Malfoy asked, cocking his head.

"Yeah, how could you tell?"

"I'm a mediwizard now. Or on the way to being. I can diagnose these things. Here, hold still." He pulled out his wand and held it close to her temple.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to cure your headache. Hangover related, isn't it? I can tell from your eyes, all red, puffy." Were they really? "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to keep suffering."

"No, sorry, please, continue," she said and she watched as Malfoy gave a gentle flex of his wand, muttered a soothing charm under his breath, and then felt a sudden flood of relief as a great weight and pressure lifted off her head. "Thank you," she said, impressed. Not that soothing charms were that difficult, but Malfoy's had been incredibly well performed. She felt so much better now, she had not realized she felt so bad before.

"No problem," he tucked away his wand again. "You can expect my bill to arrive by owl in about a week."

"Your bill-"

"Unless an owl would look too suspect in your Muggle world, in which case, I can send it through the Muggle mail I suppose, though that will cost you extra."

She met his eyes and saw a small smile creeping up across his face.

"Ha," she said, dryly.

"You believed it for a second, though, didn't you?" He looked smug. "I should bill for my services, though. I am a very gifted wizard. Don't want to be sharing this gift for free."

They both began what might have turned into a full laugh if Tandi had not appeared, suddenly, walking towards them.

"Rose," she said as she neared, "your parents are ready for you. You can go see Hugo now."

Rose rose from the table, feeling guilty once more for letting Hugo slip her mind. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Malfoy rise as she did.

"See you around, I suppose," he said as she took a few steps towards Tandi. "Or not, seeing as you're a Muggle now."

"I am not a Muggle now."

"Sure," he said, giving a slow disbelieving nod, another smile forming. "Sure."

****

It was very odd seeing her brother, feeble looking, stretched out in the hospital bed, his limbs wrapped in white gauze, his right leg levitating, tubes coming from his mouth and nose.

"Wh-what happened to him?" Rose asked, looking between her parents, hoping they could give her answers.

"He was attacked by someone," her mother said, solemnly. "Or something. We don't know much yet."

"Bloody bastards who did this to my son," her father was shaking his head, "I'll kill them, I'll kill every last one of them."

"Ron, dear," her mother reached over and played with her father's hair, then paused. "I know. I want to hurt them too."

"But we know it was an attack? Why? For what reason?" Rose felt bad dragging her parents' attention away from each other.

"There are a couple of theories. One being that maybe Hugo was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," her mother answered. "Your Uncle Harry's set all his best Aurors on the case. We should know more by morning. I hope."

But they did not know more by morning. And they didn't know more the next day either, though the tubes were removed then, and Hugo was waking up for short periods of time, speaking a little, mainly saying nonsensical things – the healing charms and potions were fantastic, but could confuse the brain a little, at least temporarily – which led to the family having a good laugh, which was much needed.

"I need the purple snorksnack…" Hugo muttered as she and her parents looked on a couple days later. "On my desk, immediately…"

They all laughed.

"Knock knock," came a voice from the door. They all three together turned their heads. Standing in the doorway were her Aunt Ginny and cousin Lily. "We just came to see how he was doing."

"He's getting better now, much better," her mother said as she embraced her aunt. "Thanks for coming by."

"Brought him a box of cauldron cakes, for when he wakes up," Aunt Ginny said, and Rose noticed the blue box in her hands almost at the same time she handed it to her father. "Come on, Lily, come in, don't hang around out there." Her aunt motioned with her arms that her cousin should come closer. "'Fraid Lily's still in shock about the whole incident. Just picked her up from King's Cross and she asked to be brought straight over."

"Just finished fall term, eh?" Her father asked.

"Yes," Lily nodded. Rose could feel her cousin trying to avoid her gaze.

"And things are well at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Lily said again. Then she seemed to rethink her curtness. "I was very sorry to here about Hugo."

"That's kind of you, dear," her mother reached out and hugged Lily.

Then all five of them were silent.

"Rose," her father finally said, "we've been sitting here how long now without eating? Why don't you and Lily go down to the cafeteria and pick us all up some food?"

Rose knew her parents just wanted to speak candidly with Aunt Ginny. They still thought of her as a baby, didn't they? Too young to hear what was really going on. Still, she didn't want to argue about it, not now, not here, and so she just nodded and walked towards the door. She hoped Lily, who still had not looked her in the face, would just fall into step behind her. She was out of the room and down the hall already when she realized Lily really was there, and she breathed a sigh of relief. They walked together in silence before the quiet became oppressive and Rose just had to say something.

"Any new Hogwarts gossip?"

"Well…" Lily's voice was cold, but at least she was speaking. "One girl, heinous bitch, was caught snogging her cousin's boyfriend in the hall."

Rose froze.

"Lily-"

"What?"

She tried to think of the perfect thing to say. Something comforting, and mature, something to make them both feel better.

"He wasn't your boyfriend anymore." That was the wrong thing to say.

"Ha! Oh! Well then!" Lily began walking again and Rose hurried after her. "Not that that matters any, when I caught you, you were probably snogging him when we were together too." Silence. "Oh, Merlin! You had been snogging him while I was still dating him, hadn't you!"

"No," Rose exploded, quickly, then thought again, "No, not snogging, exactly-"

"Well then what, exactly?"

"We kissed once-"

"What!"

"It wasn't a big deal. And I'm pretty sure he'd been drinking. And it was before the two of you were really official yet. And it didn't mean anything at all so I just thought it best not to tell you." Part of that had been true had least. She did think he may have been drinking. Though she secretly hoped he had not.

"I can't believe you!"

"And, what? Why? What was going to happen between you and him if you hadn't caught us kissing – which was only a one time thing! Alright, two time thing, but still, not a habit- And, and even if we'd never kissed at all, he still cheated on you, remember? He was still a huge arse. You wouldn't want to be with him anyway. So why are you so upset with me? I mean, really, Lily, don't tell me you're like one of those pathetic girls who marries her first boyfriend!"

"And now you're calling me pathetic? Yeah, you really know how to apologize-"

"No, that's not what I meant and you know it-"

"Sure-"

"Lily!"

"Rose!"

They had reached the cafeteria by now. Both were behaving so poorly that all eyes were on them. This realization calmed them both down and made them both feel embarrassed. As if they had not just been fighting, they walked together towards a display of sandwiches and began picking through the offerings to choose some to bring back up to Hugo's room. They filled a tray with their picks, grabbed a few bottles of pumpkin juice, and then headed back towards the door they had entered from. Rose silently thanked the spirits that Scorpius Malfoy had not been anywhere in sight.

"What upset me most," Lily finally said, a calm in her voice now, as they made their way down the hall, "wasn't that you were kissing Scorpius. But that you didn't tell me about it."

"I didn't have a chance to tell you! You walked in on it happening."

"It really was just then, then?"

"Yes, Lily, I promise. Then, and of course-"

"I don't want to hear about the first time. I mean, it meant nothing, right?"

"Yes of course."

"And you don't still fancy him, do you?"

"No, of course not. I never fancied him. Never at all. I've always thought Malfoy was a huge prick. Or little prick. Whichever expression reassures you most."

At this, Lily laughed.

"Huge prick would be more… anatomically… accurate, I suppose," she finally said.

"Lily!" Rose cried, scandalized. Both girls laughed, and continued laughing as they made their way back into Hugo's hospital room.

"Glad to see you smiling this afternoon," her mother told her while she mussed with her hair that evening as they sat and watched her brother sleeping soundly, long after her aunt and cousin had left. "I haven't seen you and Lily like that in awhile. I was worried you two were growing apart."

"So was I," Rose admitted. "But I think we're better again."

"That's good," her mother said, smiling. "That's good to hear."

****

Rose didn't return to the Botley house until after the holidays. Having been so preoccupied for weeks now with Hugo's recuperation – he was doing much better now, the whole family was pleased to see, and would be back with Puddlemere in no time, though they still had no leads on what had led to the attack nor who the attacker(s) had been – she had nearly forgotten about the challenges of university, and so was overwhelmed for her first few weeks back. It was no wonder, then, that she'd nearly forgotten her problems with Tandi's duplicity – neither talked about it in front of their friends and Rose didn't feel much like pulling Tandi aside to have a big conversation about it – and pushed even her friendship with Tom to the backburner. She'd stopped worrying, she guessed, that Tandi would try to seduce Tom, if Tandi had ever been trying to seduce Tom, and so she'd quit being quite so protective of Tom when she saw him about in town.

One morning, when she was anxious to take a bath before heading to her tutorial and Tom had spent thoroughly enough time in the bathroom, making her fear she would be late, Rose knocked soundly on the bathroom door and thought back to when she and her brother had had these types of conflicts growing up.

"Tom! I really need to get in there!"

"I'll just be a second more!" He cried back from inside the bathroom.

She stomped her foot in frustration and paced in the too-brief hallway – pacing in this space consisted mainly of taking one step then turning around, taking one step then turning around – for at least five minutes, far longer than the promised second, before the bathroom door swung open and a rush of steam poured out.

At first Rose could barely see thanks to heavy clouds of steam – just how hot had Tom made the water? – but then her eyes settled in.

"Sorry 'bout taking so long," Tom said simply. And he stood there.

Tom, with a towel wrapped only around his lower half, was standing before her, shirtless and wet. It was not a sight she had expected. He had a good body, she'd already known that, but, now... Wow. Lean and toned and only a little light hair on his chest and, she noticed, blushing, lower, leading down into the towel. Oh this was awkward.

"Rose?" Tom said after she didn't know how much time.

"Y-yeah?"

"You're blocking my door."

"Oh, sorry, so sorry, sorry," Rose muttered. She felt like she should be averting her eyes right now, that she was beholding something quite grown up, too grown up for her, she felt like a little, silly, blushing girl all of a sudden. Which was what she was exactly. "Sorry," she said again for good measure.

Then she realized that she had not actually stepped out of the way yet.

There wasn't really enough room in the hall for both of them, and so as she moved forwards, towards the bathroom and out of his way, he had to circle around her, to get to his door. As they made this odd circle, Tom reached out and put his arm on her shoulder. To guide them, she tried to remind herself. Not for any other reason. As he did this, she looked at his chest again – no, she shouldn't do that anymore – and noticed, with the steam even less in her eyes, something she hadn't before. An ovoid red blotch sat etched into his skin, right above his heart.

"That's a birthmark," Tom said, following her gaze.

"I wasn't looking," she said quickly.

"It's alright." Tom smiled. "A lot of people think it's a burn or something-" Who 'people'? She wanted to ask. But she didn't. She didn't need to know who had seen Tom shirtless before. "-but it's not. Doesn't hurt or anything. Just had it all my life. You can touch it, if you want."

She did want, but for some reason, this seemed wholly inappropriate all of a sudden. Perhaps she'd just come so much to think of Tom like a brother. Yes, that was it. He'd become like another older brother to her. An older brother she was having very naughty thoughts about right now. That was disgusting. She needed to stop it, she told herself.

"No, thank you," she said, finally. "But thank you for offering."

Tom laughed at this.

"No problem."

And with that he stepped into his room and shut the door. Rose just stayed frozen in the hall. She felt very odd. She wasn't sure why. And, it suddenly occurred to her, if she didn't get moving now, she would almost certainly be late for her tutorial. And it was difficult being late to a class when you were the only student. So she forced herself to enter the bathroom and block Tom from her mind.

****

That night she saw as she was walking down the short path that led to the Rad Cam gate and out into the street, Tandi, waving fiercely. Oh no, she thought, they were finally going to have their talk. She was more than relieved when Tandi, however, simply led her silently, to join the rest of their friends, who were standing out on a further corner.

"We're going to the Magdalen pub," Tandi told her only once the whole group was together.

"But, why?" Rose asked. They had a perfectly fine college pub. Why were they going to encroach on Magdalen territory.

"Come on, WG-" the nickname was back "-where's your sense of adventure?" Howard yelled, his voice echoing off the old stone buildings of the tiny street. He then made a grab at her waist, but Rose smartly sidestepped and avoided his hands.

"I heard they have excellent toilets," Alex said firmly. "In an authentic out building."

"And what's so wrong with the Hertford toilets?" No one answered her. They all knew what was wrong with the Hertford pub toilets. Which were not actually in or even close to the pub (not by drunk standards), but were instead quite a bit away, and, like the subterranean bar itself, rather old and dirty.

"Maybe we'll see your flatmate there," Tandi said. Ah, yes. So this had been Tandi's idea.

"What was his name again?" Minh asked.

"Tom."

"Tom," Minh repeated. "He's very handsome."

"He's also a fellow, I doubt he'll be out with a bunch of undergraduates, having a pint-"

"I liked his eyes," Geri cut her off. "A very nice emerald color."

"Oi, and what about my eyes?" Howard asked, running a few steps ahead, widening his eyes in front of Geri so she could really see them. Geri beamed.

"You eyes are nice too, I suppose," Geri said casually as she pushed Howard out of her way. Good, Rose was glad to see this interaction.

They walked along, talking, giggling. Alex rhapsodizing about the stainless steel urinal trough he'd heard was in the men's lou. Rose stayed quiet the whole time. She was thinking back to that morning, the hallway, Tom in a towel. She could feel herself go bright red just thinking about it, she couldn't imagine what would happen to her when she actually found herself face to face with him. She felt like she might explode.

Before she knew it, they were showing the porters their Bod cards and being waved through to the great green and stone courtyard of Magdalen's entryway. Rose was, just for a moment, ripped from her anxieties as she was struck by a sudden sense of awe. She'd never been inside Magdalen at night before. The great castle-like stone structures rising up around her, the earthy smell of the grass and the night; she was hit with a sudden longing, homesickness almost, for Hogwarts. Yes, she thought, no wonder Tom wanted to come here. Tom. Just the thought of him and she was back to blushing again.

When they reached the pub, though, which was brighter than their own – which wasn't saying much – and sportier looking certainly, Rose breathed a sigh of relief. Tom was nowhere in sight. Of course he wasn't there. Why would he be? He was a fellow. And a wizard. And not the type to just pop round to the college pub after the Bodleian closed for the night.

They all ordered drinks and settled themselves in, all feeling a bit like outsiders – because they were here – and she could tell the euphoric mood of earlier was waning now and they were about ready to retreat back to the safety of their own un-majestic college when Alex left them to use the toilets.

"And then we can go," he said as he stood. "I just have to see these first."

They were all wrapping themselves up in their jackets and scarves when Alex returned.

"Wait! We can't go yet! Look who I found!"

And there, standing with Alex, was Tom.

"This is the right guy, right? I didn't just accost a stranger and drag him down to the pub with me, did I?" Alex asked as he slid back into his seat.

"No, he's the right guy," Rose said, trying to contain the heat she felt spreading across her face. Maybe her friends would chalk her blush up to the jacket and mittens she'd already donned.

"Smooth move, Alex," Rose heard Howard say under his breath but still clearly loud enough, "bring back the competition."

Geri must also have heard this, because within seconds she was scooching over and pulling Tom down into the seat next to her.

"So, Tom, tell us about yourself," she said, batting her eyelashes.

"Well…" Tom said. "Can't remember what I told you last time? Don't know that there's much more to tell than that, though."

Rose met Tom's eye and could swear he winked at her, but it happened too quickly for her to really say.

"Have you really traveled the whole world?"

"Well I'm sure I've missed a few places," Tom said modestly.

"And what do you teach, exactly?"

"Well, my specialty is expressionist drama inspired by Oskar-Kokoschka-Bund art, but that's rather limited, so I teach a great range of dramaturgical subjects."

"Fascinating," Geri said, taking what Rose guessed was meant to be a seductive sip from her glass. Really she ended up getting a bit of foam on her upper lip.

"Yeah, real fascinating." Howard grumbled.

"You know, I'm a big fan of Oskar Kokoschka," Tandi said, reaching her arm over towards Tom, touching him lightly on the hand. "Mainly his pre-1911 works – his use of color and shape was phenomenal – but his later woodcuts are also quite exquisite."

"Bloody, though, don't you think?" Tom seemed generally interested.

"Yes, exactly, very bloody, and all in solid color ink. Amazing how he did that-"

"I've always thought so-"

"Oh yeah, me too," Howard rolled his eyes and Geri punched him in the arm. Alex smiled.

"And what's that short play-"

"'Murderer, the Hope of Women,' you mean?"

"Yes! That's horribly bloody too."

"You know, I've always thought-"

"While this is a fun conversation and all," Rose interrupted. "Could we have a little less talk of blood while I'm drinking?"

Everyone laughed. Everyone but Tandi. And the conversation topic quickly changed.

Two rounds later, Rose, fuzzy from the alcohol, was barely blushing anymore when Tom stood.

"Look at the time, I really should be getting home."

"No!" Came a chorus from Minh and Geri.

"I've got essays to grade, lessons to plan," Tom said as he threw his coat around his shoulders. "Rose, do you want to walk home with me or are you going to stay out awhile longer?"

"I-" Hmm, which should she do? "I-" Come on, Rose, say something, anything. "I'll come with you." Wrong thing. Oh well. With that Rose stood, though, and pulled on her jacket.

The night air was jarringly cold and as she stepped back out into the courtyard, Rose was cut again by the feeling of awe which Magdalen inspired in her.

"Beautiful," she said, quietly.

"Magic, almost," Tom agreed, and the two exited the college and began walking down the street.

"So, your friends seem nice."

"They are, really. Except…"

"What?"

"Except for Tandi. I mean, I suppose she's nice. The others get on well with her. I'm just not sure she's really my friend."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you did I? Tandi's a witch. A literal one."

"Really?"

"Yep," Rose nodded her head. It moved loosely and easily. A few pints of lager had oiled her joints and she felt loose all over. Each step she took in the cold, dark night felt almost like her own private ballet. She loved this stage of drinking. And the feeling of invincibility that came with it. She knew it wouldn't last long. No, it wouldn't, and she should use this time to her advantage, do something great, do something epic, she thought. That was what she wanted. An adventure. The Magdalen castle walls had inspired her.

"And what's so wrong with being a witch? You're one and you seem okay."

She looked over at Tom. He was smiling and his eyes were drooping a little. Maybe the alcohol was charging him as well.

"You think I'm okay?" She asked, then, "Just okay?"

"Maybe better than okay."

She laughed. Giggled. And she was not the giggling type.

"Tom, about this morning-"

"So what is it you don't like about Tandi, exactly? She seems like a nice girl to me."

Was that jealousy she felt again? She'd forgotten this feeling, but she was almost positive now it was, in fact, jealousy. Some weird feeling of possessiveness.

"I don't know. She's a cow. An absolute cow." This wasn't exactly true, but she couldn't stop herself from saying it. "Pretended for ages to be my friend, and she wasn't, she was never my friend, still isn't. She's a mean selfish cow. It's a job to her, you know? No, you don't know. But it is. I'm a job to her. Because I'm just a baby-"

"I don't think you're a baby."

Rose stopped walking. They were in the tunnel now, having just merged from Park End onto Botley. Above them, a train moved slowly into the Oxford station. The tunnel, a seedy and graffitied thing, was echoing now with the train above them while a cold winter wind blew through at them. Rose looked at Tom, his eyes level with hers.

"You don't think I'm a baby?"

"Not at all." He smiled. A warm smile. Yes, Rose felt, this was her moment.

With her mittened hand grabbed Tom by the elbow. She saw his eyes flash down to her hand before meeting hers again.

"You alright-" He began. And she cut him off.

Leaning forward, the force of the wind helping her as it pushed at her back, her hand gripping Tom's elbow harder, Rose titled her head so that her mouth would perfectly cover his. For a second the sound of the train overhead disappeared. Then she felt Tom pull his arm, and then his mouth away.

"Rose!" There was disgust in his voice. Oh no.

"I- I'm sorry- I don't know what- I'm sorry-"

"No, I mean, I'm- I can't- This- You, you have to let go of me."

It was only then that she realized her other hand had latched itself onto the belt of Tom's coat. Ashamed, she pulled her offending hand away.

"I'm sorry-"

"You know, I think I forgot something, back at the college, I'm just going to double back-"

"Alright, yes, yes, alright." Rose just stood there as Tom pushed his way around her. Not dissimilar to how he'd pushed his way around her earlier, in the hallway. "I'll just see you at home then."

"Yes, yes, see you at home."

And he turned and walked away, back the way they'd come.

Her chest felt like it was imploding. She couldn't breathe. How had she been so stupid? Really! Why had she thought- It was ridiculous- Of course he- No! She was an awful person. Just a stupid, dumb, awful person and she hated herself. The alcohol had made her do it, she thought. It'd be best if she didn't drink anymore. She clearly couldn't control herself after only a few pints. Awful, wretched person.

Rose walked the rest of the way home, and as soon as she pushed open the door she felt herself begin to cry. Her eyes burned with shame. She fell into the purple crushed velvet chair, the one she usually avoided, the one Hugo, weeks before, had sat in. The thought of her injured brother made her feel even worse.

She didn't know how long she sat there, curled up into herself, bawling, before her pocket began to make a shrill noise. It took her a moment before she realized the sound was her mobile ringing. But who would be calling her now? She thought the worst. It was her mother. Something had happened. Another attack maybe. Or maybe Hugo was worse. She clumsily reached her mittened hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She tried to push the green button to receive the call, but her fingers, thickly covered in wool, made it difficult and she tried to bite her mitten off with her teeth, but sweat made them stick to her hands, and she was about to scream in frustration when finally her hand was free and she was pushing the button and holding the phone up to her ear.

"Hullo?" She said, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

"Hey, Rose, it's Minh."

"Minh?"

"Yeah, glad you're still awake. Anyway, I was wondering, is Tandi there yet, 'cause she left her mobile back at the pub and I figured she'd want to know where it was-"

"Why would Tandi be here?"

"That's where she said she was going." Minh paused. "She's been staying over at your place an awful lot lately. Is there something going on with her and Tom?"

Rose didn't understand what Minh was saying. It all made very little sense.

"She's been staying over here?"

"Yeah." Minh paused. "She has, hasn't she? That's what she's been telling us-"

Then it clicked in her mind.

"Oh, yes, sorry, I- I was just blanking for a second there. Sorry Minh. Too much to drink for me tonight, I'm afraid."

"Really? I thought you only had a few."

"Yeah, well 'a few' is now apparently too much for me." She paused. "Tandi's not here yet, but I'll tell her, when she gets here, about her mobile."

"Thanks so much," Minh said. "Goodnight!"

"'Night."

Rose lowered the phone and hit the red button to cut her connection from Minh.

So. Tandi had been telling their friends that she was staying over on Botley Road. She must really be needing an excuse to go out to Osney Island, Rose thought. It had seemed odd at the time that Tandi had wanted to go there, that middle of nowhere place, in the middle of the night, but now that she thought back on it, her uncle had probably set up some sort of Auror command center there for Tandi. It would be far enough away from the college that it wouldn't draw too much suspicion, and close enough to town that it wouldn't be too far to go. Yes, that was where Tandi must have been spending her nights. Which meant, thought Rose, that maybe, just maybe, there were more Aurors (or, better yet, Aurors-in-training) out on Osney Island. Perhaps even her cousin Albus, who she suddenly missed, strongly.

Without ever consciously making the decision to go back out, Rose was pulling back on her mittens and then taking steps out the door. She would go to Osney Island. It was just down the road a short way. And if her cousin wasn't there, than she could always talk to Tandi. Not that she really ever'd had a heart-to-heart with Tandi, but she would cross that bridge when she got to it. Maybe she'd only tell her about her phone.

When Rose reached Osney Bridge was when she realized that she didn't actually know where on Osney Island this – possibly fictional – Auror command center would be. It wasn't a very big island certainly, no more than three narrow streets across, but that was still a lot to search in this ice cold night when she had no idea what she was looking for. Still, she decided to take off down the middle street, thinking that the most logical place to start, and was almost to the end of it when she heard a scream.

She knew immediately that the scream had come from Tandi. She didn't know why or how she knew, and she didn't consider it, she merely took off running in the direction from which the scream had come. There, off to the side down a tiny back alley daring to call itself a road, past the very last house, was Tandi, on her knees, her head throne back but her chest pulled up at the same time, as if her sternum were attached to a string being held by some invisible person in the sky. She glowed slightly. A sickly greenish color. Her mouth was open as if she was still screaming, but no more sound came out.

"Tandi!" Rose yelled, running towards the girl. Just as she'd said the name, Tandi collapsed over, the string suddenly broken. Rose pulled her wand – she always kept it on her – from her jacket pocket, glad that it was easier to reach than her mobile, and lit it up, looking around the surrounding area as knelt next to the fallen girl. At first she didn't see anything in the night. She feared the attacker was hiding in a shadow, about to pounce, but no such pounce came. Instead, Rose rolled Tandi over so that she was facing up towards the sky. She was breathing, but only thinly.

Rose swung her wand around attempting a side along apparation, but nothing happened. There must be blocks on Osney Island. Not knowing what else to do then, Rose reached back into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

"Hullo, mum," she said as soon as she heard her mother's breathing on the other end. "My friend- My friend is hurt, badly, I need to get her to Saint Mungo's, but I can't apparate here, I don't know what to do-"

"Rose, Rose, calm down." Her mother's voice sounded anything but calm. "Where are you?"

"Near home, near the house on Botley, on Osney Island. My friend, Tandi, she's a witch, the one who came to the hospital with me when Hugo- Dad knows her. She works for Uncle Harry, and she's hurt, mum, she's hurt real bad-"

"I'm contacting Harry. He'll be right there, he'll know right where you are. Just hold tight. Help will be there soon, Rosie."

Her mum hung up and she was once again alone, just she and Tandi, unconscious on the ground.

Feeling afraid again, Rose once more cast her wand's light around the area. Nothing. Or- What was that? Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something glowing. Red. But whatever it was was extinguished almost as soon as she noticed it.

"Rose!" Her Uncle Harry, followed by a handful of others, was running towards her now. "What happened-"

"She's hurt, she was attacked, she was attacked, and I didn't see who did it, I didn't see-"

"Shh," he said, standing her up. "It's alright. It'll be all right now. It's alright."

Even as her uncle's colleagues transfigured a stretcher for Tandi and levitated her onto it, even as they walked together off the island, the adults keeping Rose firmly sheltered between them all, Rose did not feel that everything was 'all right.' Something was very deeply wrong. She closed her eyes, briefly, trying to squeeze the memory out of her mind, but it didn't work. That red spot, that glowing red spot she'd seen. There was something so familiar about it. And she couldn't remember what. It was there, she knew, somewhere in her memory, but it was different now, somehow, it was gone, or warped at least. Her head hurt.

"Come on," Uncle Harry said as he took her hand. The next thing she knew she was flipping inside out and then she was once more standing in the marble lobby of Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** DH, mid book AU. Sort of, I tried to blend it? Hermione had sensed it, that night, in Godric's Hollow, that it was meant to happen. And now there had to be consequences. Chap 5: Another attack.  
**Note:** I'm really bad at summaries.  
**Another Note:** This chapter is brought to you by the song "Wake Up" by Arcade Fire, which I listened to 90 times in a row while writing this. Literally. My iTunes counted it up for me and told me I should be ashamed of myself. As we are going through this fucking ridiculous heat wave, all the windows in my apartment are open, so I apologize to my neighbors who had to listen to my song 90 times in a row.  
**Last Note:** I want to thank the few reviewers I've had so far. I really enjoy getting reviews. They encourage me to keep going with this, which I'm grateful for.

**Chapter 5**

Although Rose didn't feel exactly comfortable leaving Tandi behind, she was informed by hospital staff that because she was not a relative, she would not be allowed in to see her friend – was she her friend? – that night. So, resignedly, she headed back home to the Botley house and, without bothering to notice whether Tom was there or not, went straight to bed.

When she woke in the morning, she felt a nagging feeling, like something was wrong, something was off, as if she knew exactly what, she just couldn't articulate it. Only, she had no idea what was wrong. The feeling caused a dark cloud to hang over her and when she saw Minh later that day in a hallway at the college, she had to think on her feet.

"I have her mobile still, but I haven't seen her all day," Minh said as she walked along with Rose.

"No…" Rose tried to think, what would be a good reason to be missing? "She's sick. She's not coming in today. Might not come in for a while. Fell… just… terribly ill last night. Maybe something in the beer at Magdalen. I don't know. Anyway, she'll be resting at my house, for a while, 'til she gets better."

"Really? If she's that bad she'd probably be better off seeing a doctor-"

"Oh, she did, I called one to come to the house. Yeah. So. Doctor said she'd just need to rest for now. So she might not be around for awhile."

"That's awful." Minh shook her head. "Could we maybe come visit her?"

"No! I mean, I don't think that'd be a good idea. Don't want you to catch this-"

"But you said she got it from the beer at Magdalen-"

"That was just… talk. I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with her exactly. But you should stay away. The house is a real mess anyway. Oh, look at that, it's getting late, I have to get going. Bye Minh!"

With that Rose ran off.

That night she got word from her Uncle Harry that Tandi was ready for visitors, and after getting ready to leave – maybe purposefully dawdling, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tom, if only to tell him what had happened, though he was nowhere to be found – she found herself back in the marble lobby of Saint Mungo's. It was becoming very familiar to her by now.

After signing herself in and asking for directions, she made her way to Tandi's room. She was overjoyed to see her cousin Albus waiting outside the door.

"Albus!" She cried, embracing her cousin, who took a second before hugging her back.

"Oi, I'm supposed to be standing guard," he said, pushing her away, "wouldn't reflect well on me if someone snuck in while I was hugging my cousin."

"Of course, of course," Rose said, taking a good-sized step back. "So, how's she doing?"

"Better. Stable. And that's good at least." Albus paused. Rose wondered if he was still upset with her, or if Lily had told him that they had settled their differences. "Good to see you."

"You too."

"Sucks about the occasion, though. I mean, Walker getting hurt and all." He paused again. "So, you don't happen to…"

"What?"

"Remember anything? About the attack? Do you?"

"Didn't really see it happen." Rose shook her head.

"Damn. I was hoping- I mean- We've been after this guy for awhile and yet no one seems to know anything about him-"

"It's a man doing this?"

"Proverbial 'guy' and 'him.' We have no idea who's doing this. Just know that it's the same as the attack on Hugo. Same types of injuries and all."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Bit odd, really. I mean, there's no link between Walker and Hugo, is there?"

Well, thought Rose, there was one link. Her. But she'd know if she'd attacked them, wouldn't she?

"Anyway," her cousin continued, "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me some details-"

"Sorry, about five other Aurors tried to squeeze something out of me last night, all to no avail."

"Damn. Figures. I was really looking for an edge, though. I really have to prove myself, you know? Just 'cause my dad's head of the department everyone thinks I get all these advantages, but instead all I get stuck with are the really shitty jobs. Like guarding a hospital room. No offense."

"None taken."

"You can go in if you want. Forgot to tell you that. She's not awake, under a deep sleep spell right now, but sometimes they say that patients can here you even when they're knocked out, or at least that's what I overheard when rounds stopped by earlier, so maybe it'd do her good to get a visitor."

If her visit did do Tandi any good the unconscious girl had no way of showing it. After spending nearly three hours sitting at Tandi's bedside, Rose became aware of the time and realized she should be getting back to Oxford. She'd have to apparate in a few blocks from her house and walk home and by the time she did that it would be nearly time to get up for her morning lecture.

When Rose exited the hospital room she saw that her cousin had been replaced and a new guard was now watching the room. She hoped she would see Albus again soon, that they could really talk next time, and that next time it would be under better circumstances.

Rose walked down the long marble halls of Saint Mungo's navigating her way to the apparating room, from which she intended to depart. There was a line to get into the room – only one person or one destination was allowed at a time – and so she joined it, rubbing her eyes, trying to keep herself awake.

"Back again?" She knew the question was directed at her. "So soon?"

Rose looked behind her to see that a few people back, Scorpius Malfoy had joined the queue.

"A friend of mine, from university, was brought in yesterday. I just came to check up on her."

"Nothing serious I hope?"

The few people in between them were clearly getting annoyed with being talked over and so Rose, feeling oddly sociable for the hour, swapped places with them and moved her way back in the line 'til she was standing just in front of Malfoy.

"I don't know," Rose shrugged, then brought her head in closer, as if she was sharing a secret. If she were sharing a secret, though, why would she share it with Malfoy, whom she barely knew? "It was the same person who attacked my brother, they say, the one who injured her."

"Did you do it?"

Rose was taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

Malfoy shrugged.

"I don't know. Your brother. Your friend. A lot of people you like are being attacked."

"Then you should just be glad I don't like you."

"I am glad. I thank Merlin every day you don't like me."

She turned back to see his expression. She couldn't read it.

"Where are you going?" She finally asked, gesturing towards the apparating room as she did.

"Home. Been a long shift. I work here, remember?"

She wanted to say something sarcastic back to him, but couldn't think of anything worth saying. It was true, he did work here. Of course he'd go to the apparating room sometimes. Of course he'd want to go home. The line ahead of them was getting shorter and she thought eagerly of her bed waiting for her.

"I won't be staying here for long, though." He said it casually, as if daring her to enter into the conversation once more. She did not take the bait. "Yeah. Going to New York City soon. America. It's suggested for mediwizards. To train outside their country. Learn foreign skills." Silence. "So, if you were beginning to get used to us bumping into each other-"

"I wasn't."

"Alright, but if you were, you should just know, I'll be leaving soon. Middle of March."

"Lovely."

"Yeah. I'm really looking forward to it." A pause. They were nearly at the head of the line now. "Going to miss me?"

"Haven't missed you these past months."

Silence. Only one person in front of her now.

"It's alright, you know, to admit you fancy me."

"I don't fancy you."

"Never got over me, did you?"

"I can safely say that I never needed to get over you. I've never actually been… under… you."

"That I know." Though she was not looking at him, she knew he was smirking, and she didn't like it.

"Next!" Cried the wizard mediating the line. It was her turn.

"Bye, Rose." Malfoy called as she stepped into the room. She said nothing back to him. One wave of her wand and she was turning inside out and then standing in the bitter cold Oxford night.

****

Tandi stayed in the hospital for another two weeks – her absence became increasingly difficult to justify – before returning to the college. In that two weeks, Rose had gone to visit her nearly every night, forgoing trips to the pub – she remembered her silent pledge to eschew alcohol for awhile – and generally avoiding Tom, who she hadn't seen for more than ten minutes altogether in all that time, despite the fact that their rooms were still adjacent. The night Tandi returned to the dorms, her classmates threw a minor celebration for her.

"To Tandi getting better!" Geri cried, raising a glass of champagne.

"To Tandi!" They all echoed.

If Rose didn't know better, she'd've sworn Tandi was blushing.

"I'm just glad to be better again," Tandi said before taking a sip of champagne herself.

They were at a ritzy bar across town, the Duke of Cambridge, with which its list of formal cocktails and plush seats was a far step up from their usual dive. Everyone was having a great time, chatting and dancing as the night went on and the music got louder.

When they were finally left alone in their booth, Tandi leaned over towards Rose, placing her hand on Rose's arm, and looking her earnestly in the eyes.

"If I haven't said it yet, thank you, for coming to my rescue, that night."

She had not in fact said this yet. Not that Rose had been expecting her to say it at all.

"It was no problem," Rose said, shaking her head. "I only wish I'd gotten there sooner, that I could've prevented it entirely-"

"You saved my life, Rose, I'm sure of it." Tandi took another sip of her champagne. "What were you doing there anyway?"

"Looking for you, actually. Or my cousin Albus. Someone to talk to. And I just had a hunch, after I'd seen you turn off there before, that there was some sort of Auror command center on Osney Island."

"'Auror Command Center'?" Tandi laughed. "Hardly. Just a couple of us. I show up a few times a week, give my boss notes. Anyway… I'm glad you were there."

"I am too." They smiled at each other. "Tandi…"

"Yes?"

"Do you remember anything about that night?"

"About the attack, you mean? No. I've been asked a hundred times already at least, and I wish I did, but I really don't remember much at all. Just walking, and then, the next thing I knew, you were there, down the street. And then I was waking up in the hospital."

"I figured. Sorry for asking."

"No, it's alright. Why? Do you remember something?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. It gets hazier the more time passes. But a red light?"

"Like a stop light?"

"No, smaller, and brighter. And, just a flash. It didn't last long."

"Doesn't ring any bells," Tandi shook her head. She then poured the rest of her glass of champagne down her throat. "I wish I could remember more, though. 'D love to catch the asshole who did that to me. Fucking hurt."

"Ladies!" Howard walked over to the table. "How are two women as gorgeous as you both not dancing? Come on, the gentlemen demand it!"

Tandi took the hand Howard offered her and made her way out of the booth. Rose smiled after them. Perhaps Tandi really was her friend, then. Perhaps they'd had a bonding experience. That was nice.

After the revelry had died down – and patient waiters had finally persuaded them to leave so they could lock the doors – the group made its way out into the street. They walked all together for awhile until the turn off for Hythe Bridge appeared and Rose knew she had to separate from her friends. She gave them all a hug goodbye and was about to walk off on her own when she heard Tandi.

"Hold up, I'll come with you!"

The rest of the group watched as Tandi ran to join Rose.

"Everyone thinks you're secretly dating my flatmate, so you know," Rose finally said when the two girls had walked along a bit.

"I don't mind that," Tandi smiled. "Unless, of course, you have some prior claim on him…"

"No! No! What? No, not at all!" Rose wondered if she should tell Tandi about that odd, awkward kiss weeks ago, but decided against it. They continued in silence.

"Anyway," Tandi began again, "I met someone, at the hospital. Someone you know. And I quite like him."

"Really?" Her heart was approaching her throat. Malfoy, ever the flirt, it made perfect sense. Of course.

"Yeah, very nice guy-"

"He's not really," Rose cut her off, not wanting to hear anymore. "He's a real jerk actually. Awful bloke, I'm not kidding-"

"I thought you got on well with your cousins," Tandi looked at her, confused.

"My cousins?"

"James," Tandi said assuredly. "He stopped round to talk to Albus and we chatted a bit and I think we really hit it off." She paused. "Who did you think I was talking about?"

"I don't know. No one. I was just- I don't know where my mind was."

"Uh huh," Tandi nodded. "Anyway, James was very sweet. Brought me flowers, even. Violets. My favorite." Rose vaguely remembered that bouquet. "And I thought I'd ask, you know, if it'd be alright with you if I went out on a date with your cousin?"

"With James? Well… Sure."

"Great, because we already have plans for Saturday night." Tandi smiled. They walked on in silence for a bit. "You thought I was talking about that blond mediwizard, didn't you?"

"Don't know who you mean."

"Tall, thin, blondest hair I've ever seen. Cocky little git. Came by with the morning rounds group. Always had something off-color to say."

"Really? I'm not sure I know someone like that." She couldn't admit that she knew exactly who Tandi meant of course. That would be saying far too much. It would make her earlier outburst appear to have been about Malfoy and it would make her look jealous. Which she wasn't. Of course.

"Oh give it up, I recognized the name as soon as I saw it stitched on his medical robes." Tandi was verging on a smirk now. "Scorpius Malfoy, the most pretentious name I've ever heard. And your first kiss."

"That was a long time ago."

"Sure."

"It was."

"Uh huh."

"Tandi, really-"

"Look, and here we are at Osney Island. Well, Rose, I will see you tomorrow." Rose watched as Tandi took her first few steps across the bridge before turning round again. "And, really, Rose, thanks. For everything you did. It was very brave." She had never been called brave before. She thought of the sorting hat, all those years ago. "Thank you."

"No problem," Rose said, waving her hand as if to wave the compliment away. "It was nothing. You'd've done the same for me. You're paid to do the same for me."

"Really, Rose. You're a true friend."

And with that Tandi walked off into the night. So, that solved that then, Rose thought. Tandi really was her friend.

****

She and Tom did not speak. They avoided each other at all costs. She rarely saw him and she liked it this way. She was embarrassed, appalled by her own behavior, and every time she caught a glimpse of her flatmate she thought back on that moment in the tunnel and how horribly drunk and foolish she had been. Why had she done that?

Tom, meanwhile, seemed to be embarrassed in his own right. She wondered why. She did not ask why, of course, because that would have involved talking, and she really did not want to do that.

The weeks passed and the end of Hilary term rolled around and, glad to have a month off to look forward to, Rose found herself feeling happier and lighter than she had in quite some time. She would have a whole month away from schoolwork and, more important, a whole month away from the house on Botley.

Her last night in Oxford before she left to for her parents' flat, Rose went out – as ever – with her friends to celebrate the fact that they were nearly done with their first year of university.

"One more term left this year!" Minh said, raising a glass.

"To one more term!" The rest echoed.

And they all laughed and drank, and had quite a good evening. As Rose left to walk home, Tandi joining her to walk as far as Osney Island, she was pleased to see that Howard's arm was draped protectively around Geri's shoulders. She brought this up to Tandi on their walk home.

"I think they'll make a cute couple," Rose said.

"Do you think? You don't get the feeling that Howard was just working his way through all of us before he found one who would comply?"

"Does that mean that you too have been the recipient of Howard Bean's affections?"

"I took it as a compliment at the time," Tandi shrugged, smiling. "That was before he snogged you of course-"

"He did not 'snog' me! One kiss, that was it!"

"Sure," Tandi gave an exaggerated nod. "I'm sure that's all it was."

"Really! Howard Bean? Ew!"

The two girls laughed together until finally they reached Osney Island and parted ways.

Rose felt especially light hearted as she walked the rest of the way down Botley Road that evening. The air, while not quite warm, was at least thawing out. It would be spring soon, real spring, and the green and lush would be returning to the city, making it even more beautiful. It was this thought which was passing through Rose's mind as she unlocked the door and stepped into the entryway. As soon as she was inside she could sense something was off.

All the lights were off.

"Hullo?" She called, cautiously, as she stepped into the hall by the kitchen. "Tom, are you home?"

That was when she saw it, just a flash, but the bright red, and then it was gone.

"Tom!" She cried at the same time as she reached for her wand. "Stupefy!" She shouted into the dark in front of her. Her spell cast a blue streak of light as it flew from her, just enough to illuminate Tom, collapsed on the floor. "Lumos maxima!"

Light flooded the ground floor. She saw, past the hallway, into the living room where Tom – awake, she was glad to see – was on the floor. Just as she was beginning to think her stunning spell had hit him, he slowly began to push himself up with his hands.

"Tom!" She ran over to his side. "What happened? Who was here? Are you alright?"

"I-" his eyes looked oddly glazed, unfocused. "I don't know. Where am I?"

"You're at home, see," she gestured to the room around them. "On Botley Road."

"Yes, yes," Tom nodded his head slowly. "Yes, I see now."

"What happened to you? Is- Is that blood on your leg?"

They both looked down together. A red ooze, presumably blood, was spilling from a deep cut on Tom's thigh.

"I don't know what happened," Tom said, shaking his head. "This shouldn't be happening to me-"

"Shh, it'll be alright. We should probably get you to the hospital, though, just to-"

"No," Tom said sternly, and with more strength than she knew he had, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed it, tightly. It hurt. "No hospital. I don't like hospitals."

Rose did not ask why. She simply pulled her wrist away – which was not easy – and shook it out. His mother, she thought instinctively as she felt the bruises forming on her wrist. Perhaps she had died in a hospital. Perhaps hospitals reminded him of his mother's death.

"Alright then, well, your leg's bleeding quite a lot, so at least let me call my uncle or something-"

"Does he have mediwizard experience?"

"No, he's an Auror, but-"

"No, no Aurors." Tom, who'd been propping himself up on his elbows, fell back down to the floor. He looked weak again. "I don't know how an Auror could help me."

"But you need someone to look at your leg- Tom, Tom, look at me, keep focused on me, stay awake now-" But her flatmate was fading quickly. It was true, an Auror probably wouldn't be able to treat his leg. He needed a mediwizard, but he refused to visit the hospital. An idea popped into her head. Not an appealing idea, but it was all she could think of at the moment. "Stay awake, Tom, alright? Don't fall asleep. Help will be here soon. I promise."

And with that she walked over to the fireplace.

****

Scorpius Malfoy arrived not fifteen minutes later. And most of those fifteen minutes had been spent trying to reach him, contacting Saint Mungo's and then asking around 'til she could find someone who could track him down. When he finally came to his fireplace to speak with her he looked tired, but had an amiable enough – for him – expression on his face.

"Couldn't resist me, could you WG? You're lucky, you know, I'm just about to get off-"

"I need help, my flatmate, he was attacked, he's bleeding, severely-"

"Well then," Malfoy's expression changed instantly. "Bring him in, we need to see him-"

"No, no he doesn't like hospitals, something to do with his mother's death, please, Malfoy, I wouldn't ask this if it weren't an absolute emergency, but can you please come over?"

"Of course, I'll be right there." He started to disappear from the fireplace, then returned. "Erm, how exactly do I get there?"

After giving him directions they said their goodbyes and she went back to kneeling by Tom's side, talking to him to keep him awake, and elevating his leg with a simple charm because she'd seen that done before and it seemed like a good idea.

The doorbell rang. It was Malfoy.

"Where is he?"

"Right through here," Rose led him the short distance to the spot where Tom lay and Malfoy went straight to work.

Rose watched as for half an hour or maybe more Malfoy administered potions, performed spells, and wrapped Tom's wound. Finally, he stood.

"He should really be in bed," he said assuredly. "Where's that?"

"Upstairs, the attic."

Rose watched as Malfoy levitated Tom and guided his body up the stairs, following her lead. Finally, when they came to the too-brief hallway at the top of the stairs, Rose had to take a step back, into her room, so that Malfoy could get by her with Tom in tow.

"His room's in there," she pointed, and Malfoy led the patient in and laid him down on his bed. Then he returned.

"He should be fine. He's lucky, I suppose, that it wasn't worse. Do you know what happened to him?"

"No, no, I just, I got home and I sensed something was off, and I saw this red light, the same red light I saw the night my friend Tandi was attacked, and I did a stunning spell and ran over to him and by then he was just on the floor bleeding-"

"You mean he was injured here?"

"I- I- Yes, technically-"

"And you stayed here? And, even worse, you called me over here, to the scene of the crime? Why, so I could be attacked too?"

"No!" Honestly she hadn't thought of it this way. Really, Malfoy did have a point. Not that she'd admit it. "The attacker left, or was gone, I swear, I could feel it, feel the energy change-"

"Energy change?"

"You know, how you can just feel things, sometimes, in the air, and such? When you just know exactly what to do? Come on, you know what I mean."

"Afraid I don't." Malfoy shook his head. Then he paused. For the first time since he'd been there, his usual smirk began to appear on his face.

"What?"

"I'm in your room, aren't I?" And before she could stop him, he was taking a step forward, looking around. "I'm in Rose Weasley-Granger's room. Always imagined what this looked like."

This took her aback. Not that she would admit that.

"Thanks so much for coming here tonight. You really were a life saver. Literally."

"No problem," he said, not looking at her, but instead running a finger down the back of the pygmy puff that lived in a cage on her desk before moving on to look at her picture wall. "What's wrong with this picture? Why aren't they moving?"

"That was taken with Muggle film. Those are my Muggle friends. From university."

"Your Muggle friends," he laughed. "You're priceless, you know that?"

She wanted to ask how so, but didn't. More than anything she was beginning to feel her stomach clench and she knew the feeling wouldn't go away until Scorpius Malfoy was out of her room and out of her house.

"Again, thank you for coming here on such short notice. I really appreciate it. But I'm sure you have to get back to the hospital-"

"No, I'm done for the night."

"Well, then, I'm sure you'll be wanting to get home. You must be tired, after all."

Malfoy stopped what he was doing suddenly – flipping through her copy of "A House of Pomegranates" – and looked up at her.

"When you called tonight, I thought it was because you knew this is my last night in England."

This caught her off guard.

"Really?"

"Yeah, leave for New York tomorrow afternoon."

That was not the answer her 'Really' had been asking for.

"Well, I'm glad you were still in the country tonight, then."

"Me too."

"Really? You're glad you could attend to my bleeding flatmate?"

"I'm glad I got to see you again."

It was too much for her. Malfoy, tossing the book onto her bed, took a step towards her.

"Rose."

"Y-yes?"

He smiled. He was about to laugh at her. This was their fourth year all over again. She knew it. She felt how she had felt that day, outside of Potions, when she'd thought, for a split-second that he was going to ask her to the winter dance and instead he'd called her ugly.

"I was wondering… if…"

"It hurts to be this ugly?"

"What?"

"You pulled that one on me before. Fourth year. Can't believe you're still using the same material."

"I don't know what you're talking about." But he was blushing. "My friends, they put me up to that then. And I was mad, because Slughorn had just praised you in front of everyone when anyone could see that I'd made the better antidote for swelling solution, but that old fool singled you out again and exalted you in front of everyone. It was just 'cause he loves your parents, you know. Just 'cause he's a fame chaser."

She tried to think back on this. She couldn't remember what potion they'd been brewing that day, or that Slughorn had especially praised her. All she could remember anymore was what Malfoy had said to her and the look on his face as she'd walked away.

"I'm a talented witch-"

"Sure you are," he cut her off. "That's why you're here in Muggle-central instead of working hard at a real job. Yeah. Wouldn't want to waste those many talents of yours."

"I am talented-"

"No, yeah, sure, I'll take you word for it."

With that he pushed past her and started down the stairs. But she wasn't ready to let this go yet.

"You really think professors only liked me because my mum is Hermione Granger and my dad is Ron Weasley-"

"You said it, not me," Malfoy said as he continued to speed down the stairs.

"Well you're wrong, you're very, very wrong. I'm sorry that you're so jealous of me you've lost all sight of reality-"

"Jealous of you? Ha!" They'd reached the bottom of the stairs now. Malfoy was almost at the door to the entryway. Then his hand was on the knob, but he didn't open the door just yet. "I have never been jealous of you, WG. Ugly, awkward girl that you are. Not half as smart as you think. I've no reason to be jealous of you. None at all. And just because I was raised by parents who aren't on the backs of chocolate frog cards I should have to be seen as second rate all my life because people like you are always hogging the spotlight, people who don't deserve it-"

"I deserve it!" Then something dawned on her. "That's why you're going to New York, isn't it, to get away from people who know who your father is? So you're not just jealous of me, you're also ashamed of your own upbringing-"

"I am proud to be a Malfoy! The Malfoys are a distinguished wizarding family-"

"And I'm proud to be a Weasley-Granger, but I don't rest on my family name, and you know that, or you would know that, if you would think about it for half a second instead of just jumping to conclusions-"

"Who's jumping to conclusions here? I've known you for eight years Rose and in that time you have never proven to be anything but extremely ordinary-"

She could feel tears forming behind her eyes. She didn't know why Malfoy's words cut her so sharply, she just wanted him to leave now. She wanted him gone.

"I wish you hadn't come here-"

"I wish you hadn't called me-"

"I just want you to go now, just go, get out of here, run away to America-"

"Fine! I will!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

But his hand let go of the doorknob and instead was grabbing hold of her waist. He was pulling her close, and then he kissing her. After everything he'd said, he was kissing her.

"No!" She shouted as she pulled herself away from him. Without thinking, she reached her hand out and slapped him clear across the face.

They both froze. They were both breathing heavily.

"Sorry I came here," he finally said. And with that, Malfoy stepped into the entryway, and then outside, turning down Botley Road. She had not told him that he could apparate out from the entryway. She didn't regret it. It gave her pleasure to think of him walking in the dark, alone, Muggle traffic buzzing on the busy street beside him. That conceited, condescending prick. To think that he was better than her. To say all those hateful things he had said. And then to kiss her! She hated him. She hated him so much it burned inside her. Damn him. Fuck him! She was still breathing heavily. Her knees felt weak. Unable to hold herself up any longer, she slid down the wall and sat there, next to the entryway, as the tears she had been holding back all night began to spill down her cheeks.

****

The next morning Rose woke up to find that she had fallen asleep right there in the hall off the entryway. She stood, stretching her limbs, which felt stiff, then froze. A noise. Coming from the kitchen. Had the attacker returned?

Pulling out her wand she took three cautious steps to the kitchen doorway. She was stunned by what she saw. Tom, healthy as ever, was standing in the room, waving his wand and directing two pans on the stove and a mixing bowl on the counter. She thought, for a second, that she had imagined the previous night entirely.

"Tom?"

"Oh, good you're up." He smiled at her. "Saw you sleeping out there. Didn't want to wake you. How do you like your eggs?"

"Fried over hard," she said, simply, still in shock, and not knowing what else to say.

"Coming right up," Tom nodded and resumed cooking.

Rose sat down at the small kitchen table and watched her flatmate. As far as she could tell he was acting perfectly normal, which was completely abnormal given the circumstances. Still, Rose stayed silent until finally Tom placed a heaping plate of food in front of her and then sat across from her, a dish of eggs and beans and toast and pancakes before himself as well. He dug right in, but she just sat there, frozen.

"What? Something wrong with your breakfast? Are the eggs too runny?"

"No, no, they're fine." She hadn't actually tested them yet, but this was hardly pressing right now. "Tom…"

"Yes?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm feeling really good today, actually. Thanks for asking."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I've been looking forward to spring holiday. I'll be glad to have the extra time these next few weeks."

This was very odd. She felt as if she were missing something, or he was. Perhaps Malfoy had performed an obliviate charm. Maybe Tom couldn't remember last night. Still, the two of them had barely spoken in weeks now. It seemed strange that, even if Tom couldn't remember last night, he should forget the awkwardness which had been hanging between them.

"Tom, do you recall last night at all?"

"Last night?" He shook his head and then stuffed a big piece of pancake into his mouth. "I mean, I guess I do. I worked late at the library. Then came home. Why? Are you asking if I heard you when you came in? You must've had a pretty wild night to just fall asleep in the hall like that."

"Yeah," Rose nodded, not sure exactly how to proceed. "A very wild night."

"That sounds fun," Tom nodded, and took another big bite of pancake. "Food tastes so good, have you ever noticed?"

"Are you sure you're feeling okay? I haven't seen you like this… ever, actually."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Great." He paused. "I know what you mean, though. I don't think I've felt this energized in quite awhile. Must be at least a month. Maybe more."

It had been at least a month, maybe more since Rose had attempted to kiss him in the tunnel, and she hadn't seen him energized after that, either. Though, she came to think of it, she hadn't exactly been around so much after that. She'd been with Tandi, in the hospital most nights. Which reminded her. If Tom had been attacked last night – and that red light told her that he had – that would make the third victim someone she knew. This was getting to be more than just odd coincidence now. She made a mental note to discuss this whole matter with Albus later. Perhaps he could give her some perspective, or fill her in on some details she didn't know. But it might be awhile before she got some quality time with her cousin, he'd been so busy striving to prove himself, so she may as well breach the subject herself. At least tentatively.

"Actually, Tom…"

"Yeah?" A bit of toast was hanging from his mouth.

"I was thinking- I've been thinking, we never really did discuss… what happened… What I did, I mean, that night, in the tunnel-"

"What night in what tunnel?"

"You know," she was baffled, how to explain this? "You know, the tunnel, under the train station, on Botley-"

"The one with the big cartoon chicken painted on the inside?"

"Yes, well, yes, the only tunnel underneath the only train station on Botley Road."

"What about it?"

"Don't you remember, that night, after you'd been drinking with me and my friends at the Magdalen pub-"

"Yeah, I remember drinking with you all. Fun night."

"Yeah, it was, but then, you and I, walking home?"

"Mm hmm?" He shoved a forkful of beans into his mouth.

"In the tunnel, walking home that night?"

"What about it?"

"You really don't remember?"

"Can't say I know what you're talking about, no. Did we walk home together that night? Didn't we leave separately?"

"No, we didn't-"

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

This was beyond frustrating now. What had happened? Her first instinct was to blame Malfoy, he had somehow wrecked Tom's memory, but then, that hardly seemed fair. She and Malfoy hadn't fought yet when he'd treated Tom, he'd have no motivation to alter his memory. It must've been the attack, then. Whatever had happened. The red light. And now that she thought about it, she supposed that maybe this made a bit of sense. Tandi and Hugo, after all, had not remembered much about their attacks either. And she didn't know if they remembered things from weeks before the attacks. She'd never quizzed them on that, she now thought, trying to be fair. Yes, something was off here, certainly. But maybe it wasn't just Tom. In fact, maybe this was a good thing. Now she could go back to thinking of Tom as a harmless older brother and he could go back to thinking of her however he had thought of her before she'd tried to kiss him. Yes, it was a shame, frightening even, that he'd been attacked, but at least there was a positive coming out of it. That was horrible. She shouldn't think that way, really.

"When're you taking off for your parents'?"

"I don't know. Anytime, I guess."

She would be going to London to stay with her parents during the spring holiday. She'd been looking forward to it. But now she wondered where Tom would be staying. She didn't really like the idea of him staying here by himself, not if he'd been attacked here, not until she got Albus to rig up some protective charms – he'd have to promise not to tell Uncle Harry, of course, who would only tell her parents if he knew – to secure the house better.

"Tom, what are you doing with your holiday?"

"I have a lot of research to catch up on. I was gonna spend the bulk of my time in the library."

"The whole month you'll be in the library?"

"Well, I expect I'll take a few days off-"

"Why don't you come to London with me this afternoon? You've never met my parents, have you? I'm sure they'd love to meet you. And you can spend a few days with us." A few days and Albus would have this place secure again, she was sure.

"You're asking me over to your parents' house?"

"Yeah."

"Have you asked them if you could ask me over?"

"Well… No… But I'm sure they wouldn't mind. You wouldn't put them out at all."

"It's a very thoughtful offer, Rose." Tom pulled out his wand and summoned more eggs onto his plate. "Really, and maybe I'll take you up on it at the end of the holiday, but I really should get to work right now. Work now, play later. That's the smart thing to do, right?"

"But, but," what could she tell him that would convince him to get out of the Botley house, if even for a few days. "But, you're not safe here!"

"What?" Tom froze. He dropped the piece of toast he had been holding. His demeanor suddenly changed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, last night, you don't remember it, but you were attacked, the same kind of attack that happened to Tandi and Hugo, and it happened to you last night. Or it started to, but then I came in and I saw this flash of red light-"

"Red light?"

"Yeah, same as I saw when I found Tandi after she was-"

"But I couldn't've been attacked Rose. If I had been I wouldn't be sitting here now, I'd be at Saint Mungo's or-"

"You told me not to take you to the hospital. So I called a mediwizard I know and had him come here. And you were lucky, the mediwizard said it himself, when I came in I guess it chased the attacker away, for some reason, and so you were treated here-"

"I told you not to take me to the hospital?"

"Yeah," then she held up her wrist, "Actually, you more like demanded not to be taken. Grabbed my wrist and bruised it too." It was true, there was a circle of brilliant purple and yellow forming like a cuff around her wrist.

"I did that to you?"

"Yeah, but it's no big-"

"No, it is a big deal, Rose. I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. I didn't realize-"

"It's alright, you were out of it, you were bleeding and probably light headed, and I had to talk to you to just to keep you from falling asleep, so I don't expect you to remember perfectly." She had, however, expected him to remember something.

"No, it's not alright, not at all-"

"Really, it's fine. I'm just glad you're alright. You don't recall when you came home last night, do you?"

"No, no," he shook his head. "The last thing I remember…" She could tell he hadn't even thought of this until just now. "The last thing I remember from yesterday is finishing up with a student. Then sitting in my office. I don't remember coming home at all."

"Well… That's alright. Tandi didn't remember much either…" She had remembered more than Tom was, but Rose didn't think it was right to point this out. "Anyway, I just, I'm only bringing it up because I think it'd be better if you left the house for a few days. Got away from here. Just to be on the safe side. Take out a hotel room in town if you don't want to come home with me. Just, do something. And I'll have my cousin Albus, the Auror-in-training, I'll have him come over and add a few extra security charms to the place."

"Sure, yeah, I'll leave the house for a few days."

"Great."

They sat there in silence. Neither was eating anything anymore.

"I'm really sorry, Rose."

"I already told you, it's not a problem-"

"No, not for your wrist. Well, for that too. But I'm sorry," he looked very solemn, "I'm extremely sorry for putting you in danger like that."

"You didn't put me in-"

"Yes, Rose, I did." He pushed his chair out from the table and stood. "I'll clean up later. Don't worry about the mess. Have a good holiday, in case I don't see you."

With that he took off up the stairs. Rose watched after him, perplexed. This morning had been nothing like what she had been expecting.

When Rose went up to her room, ostensibly to pack, she was tempted, at the sight of her bed, to stop what she was doing and take a nap instead. She even laid down, fluffing the pillow with her hands before relaxing her head upon it. She closed her eyes and, for an hour or so, tried to sleep, but sleep didn't come and so she abandoned the idea. She was still desperately tired – a night spent in the downstairs hallway had not been restful – but thought that perhaps she would sleep better at her parents' flat, in her childhood bed. And maybe she was just too on edge, the idea of the attacker returning was frightening, to sleep here at all. So she rose and finished throwing her things into a duffle bag, which she then slung over her shoulder.

She stepped out into the too-brief hallway and considered knocking on Tom's door to say goodbye, but then thought against it. Maybe he was resting. She hadn't heard him make any noise in quite some time. So instead she headed for the steps and started downstairs. She was surprised, when she reached the floor where her Aunty Muriel's bedroom – always untouched as per the demand – was and thought she heard a strange wheezing sound coming from Muriel's unusually cracked bedroom door.

Walking as quietly as she could, Rose approached the door, her wand drawn. She realized she was probably being silly. It probably wasn't the attacker wheezing away in there. It was probably just her aunt, come for one of the unexpected visits she occasionally paid. Rose eased the cracked door open just a little more so that she could, with one eye, peek inside.

Tom was on the floor, his back to her, bent down in front of Muriel's private fireplace. And he was crying and breathing heavy. That had been the wheezing sound.

"Dad, dad, I don't know what to do-" Tom said.

"Calm down, we'll think of something, we always do-"

"And that something never works for long. I thought I was good this time, I thought I was done with this-"

"You know what the doctor said, you may never be done with this-"

"No!" Shrieked Tom. Rose jumped at the force of his voice. When she did her weight fell against the door and before she knew it she was crashing down to the floor, inside Aunty Muriel's room.

"What was that?" The man in the fireplace asked brusquely.

Tom quickly turned his head over his shoulder to look at her. Then he turned back to the fire.

"Nothing, it was nothing, dad."

"Are you sure, you should go check it out, take care of it if you have to-"

"There's nothing to take of here, dad. I've been so happy here. I'm not leaving-"

"You'll leave if you have to-"

"But I don't want to, I'm finally settled now, I finally thought I was better-"

"Tom, son, I have to go-"

"Already? But it took me so long to find you-"

"Don't try to contact me here again. I'll be moving on within the hour."

"But dad-" But the fire had already extinguished itself.

Rose, who was still on the floor where she had fell, slowly stood herself up.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Tom asked her. Though he stayed kneeling with his back to her, she could tell he was wiping his eyes. He was nothing like the Tom who'd made her breakfast that morning. "Thought you'd left already."

"No, just about to, though." Rose motioned to her duffle bag which was still on the floor even though he wasn't looking. She scooped it up and tossed it back over her shoulder. "Tom, you have to tell me what's going-"

"I can't tell you anything," he said. "If I did I'd- I can't tell you anything, is all. You'd best be getting home to your parents now."

"But Tom-"

"Trust me, Rose. You don't want to know. You can't know. Go home and forget all about this. Before I make you forget all about this."

"Is that a threat?" She was slightly stunned.

"Yes."

Now she was fully stunned.

"Alright, then, I'm going."

And she turned to leave. But just as she turned, something caught her eye. Something bright, and red, glowing. How she had not noticed it before she did not know. Maybe she'd been at the wrong angle before, his back to her as it was, but from where she stood now it was perfectly clear. The bright, violent red light she had seen before the attacks. And it was coming, she was aghast to see it, from a spot on Tom's chest, just above his heart. His birthmark, he had called it. So Tom was the attacker.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** DH, mid book AU. Sort of, I tried to blend it? Hermione had sensed it, that night, in Godric's Hollow, that it was meant to happen. And now there had to be consequences. **Chapter 6:** Rose takes a holiday. And goes to Albus, looking for help to discover the truth about Tom. Also, plenty of Ron, Hugo, and Hermione, with a little Harry and Ginny thrown in for good measure.  
**Note:** If the last chapter was brought to you by "Wake Up," then this one was brought to you in spite of the techno music someone a couple buildings over was fucking blasting out the windows until 4 am. Probably karma. I deserved it.  
Another note: This is still very fun to write. Hope people are liking it or at least reading it, despite all evidence to the contrary. Not to sound needy.  
**Again:** I sound needy there. Blame it on the lack of sleep. Thanks techno music blaster!

**Chapter 6**

Rose didn't know what to do. First, she had to get herself out of the house. That accomplished, sitting in her parents' living room alone, she was once again clueless. Should she tell someone? Who? Her parents? Who had threatened to kill whoever attacked Hugo? No, she couldn't tell them. Nor could she tell her Uncle Harry. He would probably just lock Tom up in Azkaban and throw away the key. Of course, maybe Tom should be in Azkaban. He had hurt people. And he could do it again.

She thought suddenly of the night before. Tom had been hurt. But who had hurt him? Had he cut himself in the leg? That seemed very unlikely. No, Rose realized with a shudder, he had probably been trying to attack someone else, and that someone had fought back. Perhaps Tom had arrived home just before her. Perhaps he'd been trying to get to the fireplace – to call his father? That was who she had seen him talking to this morning, wasn't it? – last night when he'd collapsed onto he floor. And she had found him there, before he could get help on his own. And then this morning, just in case she would come into the living room and overhear him, he'd tried to keep his secret by using Aunty Muriel's fireplace to talk. But if he had been injured last night, if he had been attacking someone, who could it have been? He'd said the last thing he remembered was talking with a student. Could he have attacked a Muggle student? But then how could a Muggle have made such a severe cut in his leg? No, nothing made sense. And to top that off, this morning, that chipper and cheery Tom, Tom like she had never seen him before, so peppy, what had caused that? And he had stayed that way, too, until she'd mentioned the night before. And then it had been as if his whole self had crashed. She thought of the sight of him in Muriel's room, crying, begging – yes, it had been begging, she now thought – his father for help. Saying that this had happened before. Saying that he didn't want to leave Oxford.

Just as her mind was racing to put pieces into place she heard the door open and in stepped her dad.

"Rosie!" He cried when he saw her. She stood to greet him and he took her in his arms and squeezed her tight. "Glad your home, kiddo."

"Me too," she said. And she was glad. Seeing her dad's smiling face she felt a calm descend upon her.

"Told Hugo you were coming in today, so he'll be popping round for dinner. Which your mum has left me in charge of making as she won't be out of work 'til late." Her father moved towards the kitchen. "Want to help me cook? We can make Granny Weasley's famous chicken and ham pie."

"Sounds good," Rose followed her father.

"Doesn't it?" Her father began searching through the cabinets. "What do you think goes in a chicken and ham pie?" He opened the fridge – they'd bought one on her mother's insistence years ago and her father had come to love it, despite his earlier hesitations about Muggle food preservation – and stuck his head in. "Besides chicken and ham, I mean. I'm not completely daft."

Rose forced herself to laugh. Her father was playing the clown for her, same as he always had when she was growing up. She just wasn't quite in the mood to be entertained today. Still, she put on a happy face and joined in her father in trying to piece together the recipe from memory. After several hours work and experimentation, they'd constructed a bulbous lump of pastry stuffed to the gills that looked nothing like anything she'd ever seen her grandmother serve.

"It's not what it looks like," her father reminded her as he caught her eyeing the dish suspiciously. "It's what it tastes like that matters."

Rose couldn't be sure that the taste would be better than the appearance. After all, she was almost sure she'd seen her father add a tin of sardines and jar of gherkins into the mix. Just for flavor, she assumed, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"We still have some time before your mum and Hugo get home, how about we open a bottle of nettle wine and you can tell me how your university is going?"

Rose accepted this offer, and considered it rather generous. Not the wine, of course – which she knew was for her father's benefit, so that he could seem more amenable while hearing about her "Muggle lifestyle" – but rather the fact that her father was actually asking her about her time at university. Perhaps he was warming up to the idea at last. Or perhaps her mother had finally gotten through to him and he was learning to be more accepting and supportive of Rose's choices. Either way, she found that after a glass and a half of wine, the two of them were sitting there, gabbing away, having a great time.

"But, go back again," her father cut her off, "when you need a book you have to go on to a, to a compluder-"

"Computer," she corrected.

"Yes, that's what I said, and you have to go onto it and tell it to order up-"

"Well, you don't tell it, exactly, more like you fill out a form, on a webpage-"

"Alright, so, sure, you tell it that you need the book and you tell it where you want the book to go-"

"Yep-"

"And then you have to just wait? For twenty-four hours? Before the book appears in the library?"

"It doesn't just appear. Someone brings it to the reading room you requested it to go to. There's this whole great underground system where they keep all the books-"

"But why don't they just keep all the books in the library? Then you wouldn't have to wait a whole day to get the book you wanted." He said it as if he was easily solving a problem which had eluded others.

"Well, it's a rather large library, spread all across town, really, so they're more reading rooms than anything else, really, and, well, there's far more books than could fit into all of the reading rooms combined-"

"You can fix that with a few easy engorgement charms-"

"Yes, but they're Muggles, they don't know any engorgement charms-"

"Real shame, that. It'd help them a lot if they did."

"But dad-"

The door to the flat again swung open, this time revealing her mother and brother, both of whom came right over and gave her big hugs.

"What were you two talking about?" Her mother asked once everyone had greeted everyone.

"I was trying to explain the Bodleian to him-"

"Rather nutty system if you ask me," her father interrupted her.

Her mum laughed and kissed her dad on his cheek and then the whole family decided it was time for dinner.

Sitting round the square kitchen table, enjoying – if it could be called enjoying, the "chicken and ham pie" was not exactly appetizing – a meal with her family made Rose feel more at ease than she had in a long time. She nearly forgot Tom entirely. Nearly.

At the end of the meal, just as her mother was waving her wand and clearing away the dishes, Hugo cleared his throat.

"I have an announcement to make," he said. And then he stood. And then sat again. He adjusted his shirt's sleeves and looked down at the table. Oh no, Rose thought, here it comes.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Her mother asked after Hugo had been fidgeting for nearly a solid minute.

"Well," Hugo took a deep breath. "I've decided- I mean, we've decided- I mean, I asked Zoe to marry me and she said yes."

"Hugo!" Her father exclaimed excited, swinging his arm around and patting his son firmly on the back. "Congratulations!"

"I thought that might be it," her mother smiled widely.

"This calls for a toast, a real celebration, I have some Ogden's Old Firewhiskey that George gave us ages ago, let me see if I can find it." Her father rose from the table and began searching through the cabinets.

"Still not happy with my decision, are you?" Hugo was looking directly at her.

"Why wouldn't she be?" Her mother asked. "Rose adores Zoe. Don't you?"

"Yeah, I think Zoe's great, but… They're a little young to be getting married, don't you think?"

At this her parents, her father having returned to the table with whiskey and four small glasses, burst out laughing.

"I don't see what's so funny," Rose said, an edge in her voice.

"Well, who are you to say your brother's too young to get married? You're still young yourself!"

"Rose," her mother tried to contain her laughter as she spoke. "Every person does things in his or her own time."

"Yeah, but, you have to agree, nineteen is a little young to get married. None of my friends are married-"

"Your Muggle friends, you mean?" Hugo asked, crossing his arms.

"And my wizarding friends!"

"I heard from Lee that he suspects Maria and Ricky will be hearing wedding bells pretty soon," her father added casually. Rose wished he hadn't. She sighed in frustration.

"Listen, you two," her mother was definitely not laughing any longer. "We all have to respect each other's differences. Hugo is choosing to get married and Rose is choosing to attend a Muggle university-"

"Those things aren't comparable-" Rose began, but she knew she would find no support here.

"Really, Rose, can't you just be happy for me?"

"Alright you two, calm down. Now. Your father's brought out this… nice… firewhiskey. Let's just put all our differences aside and celebrate that we are all happy and healthy and here together."

Rose looked at her brother, he rolled his eyes at her, so she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Saw that," her father said as he poured them each a glass. "Now," he raised his glass into the air. The others followed his lead. "To our health and our happiness and all of us being home at the same time, which doesn't much happen anymore-"

"And to me and Zoe-"

"And to Hugo and Zoe. And to Rose and her Muggle friends."

Hugo and her father both tilted back their heads and swallowed their whiskey down. Rose caught her mother's eye, she gave Rose a sympathetic look, and then swallowed her drink as well. Really, though, the health and happiness and being here were all good things, and she should be grateful for them, she realized. Especially because she knew, she could sense, that she would be approaching tougher times ahead. And so, finally, Rose lifted her glass and drank.

****

That first week of her school holiday she spent relaxing around London, visiting her friends working at the Ministry and at different shops in Diagon Alley – Clothilde was now apprenticing the very aged looking Madame Malkin, and Rose was hoping to buy a new set of dress robes or a nice gown, for the wedding unfortunately, at a discount – and spending time with her parents. After a week of this, though, she realized that she had to stop pushing away her problems and finally deal, head on, with the issue of what to do about Tom. So, waking up on a sunny and auspicious looking late March morning, Rose decided it was time to go visit Albus and confess what she had witnessed.

Albus was still living at home with his parents, who did not live that far from Rose's parents, so she decided to walk over, trying to remember if today was in fact Albus' day off. She thought it was. She thought he'd mentioned that information to her before.

Approaching number twelve Grimmauld Place, Rose wondered again if her cousin would be home. Grasping the twisted serpent knocker and banging it down against the door she tried to formulate a reason why she wanted to see Albus and only Albus that would not offend her other relatives nor seem suspicious.

Her Aunt Ginny answered the door.

"Rose, what a lovely surprise. Hermione told me you were home, I was hoping you'd stop by sometime-"

"Yeah, it's great to see you too-" She tried to think quick. How could she spend time with Albus without Aunt Ginny hanging round and hearing their conversation?

"Unfortunately," Ginny interrupted her, "I was just on my way out, but Albus is upstairs in his room. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on."

"Yeah!" Rose practically bounced into the entryway. She vaguely remembered her parents being somewhat wary of this house, but Rose loved it. The front hallway was very bright and the walls were lined with pictures and portraits of all the many aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews and friends of the family, all waving and smiling back at her. It glowed golden like sunlight all day long thanks to the enchanted lanterns which bobbed from the ceiling and always gave off a very warm, homey air. Also, Rose thought, it almost always smelled like cookies.

"You can go on up to him," Aunt Ginny said as she closed the door behind them. "Are you hungry? I can have Kreacher bring you up some snacks?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I just ate before coming here," Rose said. She was already half way up the first flight of stairs as she spoke, about to pass the ugly old picture of the shrill woman who yelled when her curtains came open – which they hardly ever did if one was careful – leaving her aunt behind. She ran straight up all the stairs, to the very top landing, right to Albus' door which she knocked on firmly.

"Mum, let me sleep, it's my day off…" Came a muffled voice from within.

"It's me." Rose paused, then added, just in case. "Rose."

Through the door she heard Albus get up out of bed and shuffle across the floor. When he opened the door his hair was a mess, pointing in all directions on one side and completely flat against his head on the other. There were deep purple circles under his green eyes which he rubbed as he yawned.

"Rose, good to see you."

"Yeah, you too. I'd say 'Hope I didn't wake you,' but I guess I did."

"'S alright. I don't usually sleep this late. I was just up until forever last night. Official Auror business."

As Rose followed her cousin into his room she smiled at his authoritative tone. He really loved his job.

"That's actually what I've come to see you about today-"

"Thinking of getting into law enforcement?"

"Not exactly…" Rose took a seat on a plush red chair while Albus sat himself on the edge of his bed. "You know the attacks on Hugo and Tandi?"

At this, Albus perked up a little.

"What about them?"

"Well… This is going to sound strange, but… What if I knew who was responsible for them?"

"Then you'd get a whole bloody lot of money is what. There's a reward on that guy's head now. Hundred thousand galleons-"

"Wow! Why that much? I mean, it seems a bit disproportionate-"

"There was another attack," Albus said, fully awake now. "On Shacklebolt."

"What? But- I haven't heard anything-"

"It's all under wraps. I really shouldn't be telling you, even. Dammit. Should've thought before I spoke-"

"No, I'm glad you told me, but- Shacklebolt was in the paper just this morning, a picture of him at that meeting with the American Magic Czar yesterday, and he looked completely fine-"

"Well he is, thankfully. The attacker, whoever he is – and we're pretty sure it's a he now… or at least, if it is a woman, she has short hair and a deep voice… could be Madame Hooch now that I think on it – didn't get very far. Shacklebolt reacted quickly. Actually hit the attacker with a pretty powerful slicing spell and then the attacker just fled. Still, Shacklebolt can't remember any details about it, really. Fortunately there were some people in the next room, thought they saw the back of the attacker as he apparated away."

"Wow."

"I know. It's been absolute chaos in the department since then. Working round the clock lately. Would've gone into the office today, too, but my dad told me I had to come home and rest. Said I'd get demoted and be back to square one of training if I didn't."

"Well I'm glad you're here, because I need to tell you something, something important-"

"You don't really know the identity of the attacker, do you? Did something come back to you, about that night when you discovered Walker- I mean, Tandi?"

"Not exactly… But look, you've got to promise me- No, swear, swear an oath that you won't say anything to anybody-"

"This sounds important-"

"It is. But please, Albus, please."

Her cousin looked her in the face, trying to detect any sarcasm. When he found none he raised his wand hand.

"Fine. I swear an oath that I will not…"

"You will not repeat what I tell you to anyone-"

"I will not repeat what you tell me to anyone…"

"Unless I give you permission to-"

"Unless you give me permission to…"

"Or else may your spells not work any longer."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Or else may my spells not work any longer." A bright white light circled around Albus' hand, then disappeared. "Ow, always stings, that does. Bit stringent there, weren't you? So, what's up? What's so critically important you made me swear an oath over it?"

"Well…" Rose took a deep breath, then began her story, telling him all about Tom, all about the night she'd found him, and the morning after, and, of course, the red, glowing light which seemed to issue from his birthmark. Which, now that she thought about it, probably wasn't just a birthmark.

"Wow…" Albus said when she'd finally finished. He looked stunned. "I mean… Wow… You have to tell someone."

"No!" She exclaimed, suddenly.

"No? But why not? If he's hurting people, Rose-"

"But that's just it, I don't think he is hurting people. At least not intentionally. Does that make sense?"

"Not really."

"He's such a sweet person, and we have a real connection, there's just this feeling I get around him, I trust him, implicitly-"

"You don't fancy him, do you?"

"No, of course not," she had not told Albus about the kiss. It had not seemed important. And, anyway, she didn't fancy Tom, not really, did she? She didn't think so. "It's different than that. He feels, well, almost like a brother to me, I suppose."

"Like a brother who murders people?"

"He hasn't murdered anyone!" There was silence. Albus avoided her eyes. "Has he?"

"I don't- I mean, I can't honestly say- I shouldn't honestly be talking about any of this-"

"But I told you everything!"

"And you made me swear not to repeat it! Which was wrong of you, really. If I could just report him, it might save lives." He paused. "Because, as far as we can tell, he has killed before."

"No, he wouldn't-"

"But he would, Rose. He has. Wait right there."

Albus hopped up from his bed and exited the room. She heard his footsteps retreating down the stairs and then a few minutes later he returned, holding a very thick looking binder.

"Look, this is my dad's, from his office downstairs. He doesn't think we know how to get into it, but Lily and I figured out his password back about ten years ago now and we've just never let on. It's where we go when we want to avoid James. And, anyway, since I started Auror training I've gotten more curious and started searching through his files – I know, it's not morally right, but don't hold it against me – and a couple weeks ago I discovered this." He handed the binder over to Rose, who flipped it open. She was confronted by many graphs and charts and newspaper clippings. "It tracks all the major traces of dark magic, across the whole world, in the last thirty-ish years. Since Voldemort's death, my dad has gotten really into tracking dark magic. As a hobby, I suppose. Anyway, I was flipping through this a couple weeks ago, just for fun-" Some fun, Rose thought "-and I saw what was on page three hundred fourteen." Rose flipped to that page. It was filled with charts and graphs. She wasn't sure exactly what they were mapping. "That chart basically breaks down the wizard's magic fingerprint," he said, answering her unasked question. "See, every witch and wizard's magic has its own unique fingerprint. And when you combine that with the trace left behind by dark magic, and you compare the two together, it's a guide to who committed what crime. And on that page, that chart, that matches exactly with the attacks we've seen thus far."

Rose looked at the page in front of her. It just looked like a smattering of dots across a plane to her.

"But," she looked back up at her cousin, "if you have this, if you know his 'fingerprint' then why don't you just arrest him-"

"Because it's trickier than that. We don't know whom the fingerprint actually belongs to, we just know it exists. See, that crime, in the article-" Rose glanced down again at the adjacent page and started reading, for the first time, one of the many news clippings next to the chart. It immediately grabbed her attention "-see, that's the first time we saw this fingerprint. So we know he killed a woman Australia, what, fifteen or so years ago, but we don't know who he is. He was never caught, so we know his fingerprint, but not his identity. And sometimes it feels like the only way to discover who he is would be to put traces out on everyone and you just can't do that, it'd be far too "1984"."

Rose had only half listened to what Albus had just told her. A woman murdered in Australia? And it was in Melbourne, too, she read. Tom's mother, she instantly thought. Oh no.

"But-" Rose's brain was whirring trying to make sense of all of this "-but why, of all the pages in this book- I mean, did you scour this entire book to find this, or-"

"No, that page was bookmarked."

"Bookmarked?"

"Yeah. I wondered why at first, but then I noticed something in the chart, something familiar." He took the binder back and flipped it all the way to the front, to the first page, keeping his finger on page three fourteen at the same time. "Look. It's nearly identical. I've never seen two fingerprints so similar before."

"And who does this fingerprint belong to?"

"Well, that's the odd thing," Albus took back the binder entirely and stared deep into the pages as if they would reveal something to him. "That first page, that's Voldemort's fingerprint." Rose was in shock. "This is serious, Rose. Really serious."

They sat in silence for a moment. Albus shut the binder. Rose kept her eyes focused straight down on the floor, afraid to meet her cousin's gaze.

"You said the only way to know someone's fingerprint is to trace them?"

"Yeah. Dark magic automatically leaves a trace, but everyone else, you have to know specifically who you're focusing on and, it takes quite a bit of prep work, but-"

"We have to put a trace on Tom." Yes, this was a good idea. "It's the only way, the only way to prove it's not really him-"

"But you said you saw him-"

"I saw… something… I heard him confess something. But I just can't believe that- It can't be- It can't be him. He's not like that-"

"You've only known him for, what, six months?"

"Less than that, technically, but I know him. I mean, I really know him. I just get this feeling, this sense. You know what I mean? When you just know about something?" Albus shook his head. "Well, I do. And I know I'm right about Tom. And I suppose my only way to prove it is to trace him."

"And if you're wrong about him, if he's the one-"

"If I'm wrong…" Rose didn't want to say it, but she knew she had to. "If I'm wrong then you can arrest him. You can take him away."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Would you swear an oath on it?"

"I-" But as she thought about it she realized there was no point in fighting. "Yes. I'd swear an oath on it."

"Well, then, raise your wand arm."

And she did, and Albus swore her to it.

****

Albus didn't have another day off after that for a whole week, and so they waited a whole week before she apparated them both to Oxford, just across the bridge from Magdalen College, so that they could go find Tom.

"It's pretty here," Albus said when they arrived.

"I know! That's what I keep trying to tell people!" Rose huffed as they walked across the bridge which, in this early afternoon light, was very pretty.

"Now," Albus said as they approached the stone archway that served as the porter's guard post, "you have to make him drink this potion for the trace to work, and once it's in his system it will only last for-"

"You say 'make him' like I'm going to have to force it down his throat-"

"You might have to!"

"I will not! Tom and I are friends. Trust me. Everything will be fine."

Getting Albus into Magdalen took a bit of finagling. At first Rose tried to just flash her Bod card and claim Albus was a perspective student, but the porters did not accept this. In the end they had to use a confundus charm to get him through. Once they were in, though, Albus was – just as she'd been – stunned by the large stone buildings and well-tended green courtyards.

"Muggles built this?"

"So far as I know."

"Couldn't be," he simply shook his head as she guided him through another passageway into yet another courtyard. "I mean, look at the craftsmanship…"

"Everyone undervalues Muggles…" She had to keep focused now. Should she go up the right stairwell or the left? Everything looked the same here. Tom had once told her where his office was, but it was a challenge to find it on her own. She'd never thought a quasi-castle was more imposing before in her life. "I think this is it," she finally said, and pointed to a narrow spiral stairwell. They walked up in silence and then reached a very narrow hallway. Reading the plaques next to the wooden doors, Rose was convinced that she was correct in thinking she could find Tom here. A few steps more and she his name on the white card paper plaque outside his office: Thomas King. "This is him," she said. And then she knocked.

"Enter." It was definitely Tom's voice.

Tentatively – she didn't know how he would react – she opened the door slowly.

"Tom?"

"Rose?" He had been sitting behind a desk, but he stood when he saw her. "What are you doing here?" Then. "How are you?"

"I'm alright."

"Enjoying your holiday?"

"Yes, quite a bit." Did he not remember the day she left? His memory had proven spotty before, she wouldn't doubt if he had completely forgotten that morning, crying, in front of Aunty Muriel's private fireplace. "May I come in? I brought a friend."

"Yes, of course, of course." Tom walked around his desk so he was standing in front of it. The room was larger than she had expected. It was quite a bit nicer looking than the offices at Hertford, most of which were made out of converted dorm rooms and many of which still contained a porcelain sink or two.

Rose stepped fully into the room. Glancing behind her she saw that Albus was hesitant to enter, still hanging back in the hallway. She motioned with her arm that he should join her.

"Tom," she said as Albus finally took a tentative step into the room. "This is my cousin, Albus Potter."

The two men stared at each other. Seeing them together in the same room, right across from each other, Rose was struck by it too. They looked so similar. Tom looked more like Albus than James did even. Both of them almost simultaneously reached up and rubbed their emerald green eyes, then refocused their vision upon one another.

"Albus wanted to see where I went to school so I was giving him the grand tour of the city and I decided I just had to stop in and see you," Rose plowed through. "We brought a nice bottle of nettle wine with us. If you'd like some."

"I don't know- It's very kind of you to think of me, but I have a lot of work to get through-"

"Just one glass?" Rose insisted. She saw Tom's expression lighten.

"Well, alright, I suppose one glass can't hurt."

"Brilliant!" Rose exclaimed. Before she knew it, Tom was transfiguring glasses out of tea mugs and Albus was pulling the bottle of wine out of her bag and laying it on Tom's desk. "Should we make a toast?" She said as the glasses were finally poured. She knew Albus had the tracing potion she'd made in his bag (because she was, despite whatever Scorpius Malfoy said, excellent at potions) and she knew he needed a distraction so that he could slip it into Tom's glass unnoticed.

"Yes, a toast would be nice, Oxford tradition, isn't it?" Tom was just about to pick up his glass when Rose squealed.

"Look out the window!"

"What? What is it?" Tom asked as he turned himself to look.

"Is that- Is that a hippogryph I see?"

While Tom looked closely, Rose saw, out of the corner of her eye, Albus adding a good dose of the potion.

"I don't think so," Tom shook his head. "I think that was just a Magpie."

"Really?" Rose asked as she watched Albus slip the potion vial back into his bag. "My mistake. Alright, let's toast now."

"Yes," Tom sounded a bit wary as he raised his glass, "let's. To the Queen."

"To the Queen!" They repeated. And all three drank.

"And to Albus," Tom said, raising his glass again.

"To Albus," Rose said. And again all three drank.

"Thank you, Tom, for being so hospitable to me," Albus was speaking in a colder than usual voice.

"Oh, it's no problem. Any friend of Rose is a friend of mine-"

"Yes, well," Rose didn't know how much longer she could keep this going without Albus, who was looking more perturbed by the minute, giving away their cover. "We should probably get going."

"Already?" Tom asked. "You haven't even had one full glass yet?"

"Well," Rose threw her neck back and poured her drink straight down her throat. "Now I have."

Tom laughed.

"So, Albus," he was ignoring her, "what've you seen in Oxford so far?"

"Oh, not much…"

"He's seen the Magdalen Bridge," Rose interrupted, wanting to say something to keep up with their cover.

"Really? It's wonderful, isn't it?" Tom finished the rest of his glass. That was a relief. And then he reached over to the bottle and poured himself another. Would they have to remain here 'til he finished it? "You know, when I first came here, every May Day the students all used to jump off that bridge. People still gather there, it's still a big event, but now the police barricade the whole thing. Anyone caught jumping in the river will be arrested coming out of the water."

"Really?" Albus asked, and Rose could tell from his voice that he wasn't even half interested.

"Oh, yes. I mean, it's still a great spectacle. But it's just not the same, you know? The boys' choir still sings from the tower, but without jumping into the water, the whole even just seems rather anticlimactic." Tom took another deep drink.

"Well I think we should be going." Rose placed her empty glass down on the table. "After all, Albus can't stay much longer and I still have to show him, you know, Hertford, and the Pitt Rivers museum, and the Ashmolean."

"Yes, of course," Tom nodded, "and I have to get back to work. But it was nice meeting you Albus."

"You as well, Tom."

"Thanks again!" Rose cried, and then she pulled Albus, by the arm, out the door. As they exited, she breathed a sigh of relief. "It worked, didn't it? He ingested the potion?"

"He did, yeah. Now we just have to wait for him to cast a spell." Albus was silent until they reached the porters' gate again. "He looks a lot like me, doesn't he?"

"I mean…" There was no way around this question. "I mean… I suppose he does… A bit."

"More than a bit. He looks more like me than my own brother. It was scary."

"Don't be silly," Rose said, shaking her head. "Now, what do you want to do?"

"Well, we have to stay in relatively close proximity for the tracing potion to work, so… Want to show me your Muggle city?"

"Of course," Rose smiled, "be glad to."

And she did take him to Hertford – they had to perform the same confundus charm to get him in there as well – and walked him around the very small campus, showing him the library and the chapel because both were pretty and worth seeing and then walking him over the Bridge of Sighs – it still always made her think of Howard's slimy tongue, unfortunately – and back out onto the city street. After that she did take him to the Pitt Rivers museum, with its odd collection of artifacts. Albus' favorite was the table of severed heads from around the world, a display Rose herself typically avoided. After that Tom still had not cast a spell or charm, and so they walked around the adjacent Oxford Natural History Museum – which they'd had to pass through to get the Pitt Rivers, though they'd ignored it at first – where Albus admired the taxidermied dodo bird.

"There's something about seeing extinct species in the flesh which is quite satisfying." Albus said as they stared for great lengths into the glass cubicle in which the dodo was stored.

Just then a shrill sound emanated from Albus' pocket.

"That's it," he said, "he's cast a spell."

"So we know now?"

"Well..." He paused and took the time to dig through the satchel he had slung over his shoulder. He extracted the same empty vial from which he had poured the potion earlier. Now it was glowing bright fuchsia. "We have to wait a bit, before I can analyze this. And I'll record a few other spells, just to be safe. But, yes, we don't have to try to sneak potion into his drink again. We have what we came here for."

Rose felt more nervous than she had the entire day. What if this plan went wrong? What if the results clearly proved that Tom had been the attacker? And really, what evidence did she have to prove that he wasn't?

"We should probably be getting home," Albus said. "There's nothing more we can do here, it was more just as a precaution that I had us stick around. We'll have to wait 'til tomorrow before I can start analyzing it. That's how long it'll take for the trace to settle."

Rose nodded at him, unhappy that it would take so long to discover what she wanted to know now, but understaningd that she had to wait to find out. So, resignedly, Rose walked Albus out of the museum and into the street where, after finding a quiet alleyway, they both departed and headed to their parents' homes in London.

****

When Rose awoke the next morning, eager to go down to the Ministry and meet up with Albus – because he would be working again today – she was surprised to find, as she stepped from her room out into the hallway leading to everywhere else in the tiny flat, her brother Hugo.

"What are you doing here?" She asked as she pushed past him, heading towards the kitchen so she could grab a quick breakfast before she left.

"What? Now you don't approve of me coming home, either?"

"No," she said as she opened up the fridge and found a nice looking green apple. "Just didn't expect you, is all."

"Just came to drop off tickets to my game against the Harpies tonight-"

"Playing against your fiancée, eh?"

"Yes-"

"And that won't cause tension between you. Teenage hormones running high, as they do."

"No," her brother said curtly. "Now, I've got to get back for practice, but if you wouldn't mind telling mum and dad-"

"And if I do mind?" But he ignored her.

"-I left the tickets here on the kitchen table. They have a whole box, so they can bring as many people as they like." He headed towards the door, then paused and turned back. "I hope they don't bring you."

She stuck her tongue out at him, he stuck his tongue back at her, then left the apartment. So, Hugo had a match tonight. That could be fun to go to, she thought. And maybe it would cause a riff between him and Zoe, if one team beat up a lot on the other. She had to remember to tell Zoe's teammates to really attack her brother if she got the chance.

As she walked towards the door she thought of who else might like to share their box with them. She'd ask Albus, of course, which also meant she'd be asking James and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry, if they weren't too busy. Lily's term was still in session, or else she would be invited along as well. As Rose made her way to the Ministry's guest entrance she began to wonder whether James would invite Tandi along with them. It might be nice to have Tandi there. However, it wouldn't be nice to have to see Tandi and James holding hands and kissing each other and whatever else new couples did. The whole idea of their chumminess repulsed her.

Finally Rose entered the big red telephone box she'd been walking to and shortly thereafter, after making her way through the main lobby and then navigating her way around the elevators, she found herself at the restrictive looking entrance hall of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

No one paid particular attention to her when she entered, which she thought odd at first, until she noticed that the walls of the hall were lined in sneakoscopes. As she did not set them off, she supposed she was not a threat. Also, Albus had likely put her name on the list of visitors to be expected that day.

When she entered the main Auror office and found Albus' cubicle she was disappointed not to find him in it, but assumed that he probably had other business – though likely less important, not that he'd be able to admit that to anyone – to take care of. Rose sat at his desk for a full half hour, playing with the various doodads and scanning through the various papers that cluttered his desk. Finally, Albus appeared.

"Rose," he said as he entered. He quickly performed a muffliato spell on the cubicle. "You ready for the results?"

"Been ready for the past twenty four hours."

Albus nodded.

"I thought as much. That's why I started analyzing our trace samples as soon as they were ready. So I'm a few hours ahead of you right now. And I have to tell you, what I've found is… interesting."

She'd never known her cousin to be the type to substitute the word "interesting" for "troublesome" before and so this gave her hope.

"First off, the spells he was performing-"

"You can tell that?"

Albus nodded.

"Everything he did with the sister-potion in his system reflects in this one. Anyway, the spells he was performing, they were… a bit unusual. Typically, you see a lot of practical things, summoning charms, maybe a cooking or cleaning charm, day-to-day stuff, you know? But your friend… Aparecium was the first thing, then a disillusionment charm, and finally, he made a patronus."

"What was he doing?"

"That's what I'm wondering too. It all seems a bit dodgy to me, but none of its technically illegal, or even very bad, is it? I mean, he works around Muggles, so you'd think a disillusionment charm might come in handy time to time. And Aparecium… I mean, I suppose he could be writing or reading things he didn't want Muggles to see, and so the use of invisible ink isn't that odd. But the patronus… He has me stumped."

Rose too. But she liked something in her cousin's tone, just the same. Albus sounded far more upbeat than he had the day before.

"Is that it, we only know what magic he did?"

"I'm starting to get the rest of the results in. It'll still take awhile. Come on, you can watch with me if you want."

Albus moved towards his desk. After muttering a few words under his breath – Rose had not recognized the spell and Albus had obviously wanted to keep it secret – a strange sight suddenly appeared, as if from thin air, though it must have been there, hidden, the whole time. On the desk was a large piece of parchment and above it was a vial of potion slowly moving around and dripping its contents onto the paper. With each drip, the potion would bleed out a little, changing colors several times as it did and then, suddenly, constrict back, turning black, and leaving a pin-point spot upon the parchment. This happened over and over again.

"Very technical looking, isn't it?" Albus said without taking his eyes from the latest spot that was forming. "No wonder they made us get an E in Potions' N.E.W.T.S. to enter Auror training. I mean, you made the trace base, but the analyzing-"

"Rose, is that you?"

Rose turned her head to see who had spoken. Standing just down the hall from Albus' cubicle was Tandi.

"She can't see this!" Albus jumped up a little, trying to block the parchment and dripping vial from view before muttering another spell cause the whole mess to vanish again. "This isn't sanctioned work! If she starts asking questions about what we were looking at-"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Rose said as she stood and walked out of the cubicle and over to Tandi. "Hullo, Tandi."

"What're you doing here?"

"Just popped in to visit Albus. See if he wanted to grab lunch with me later. But he seems too busy for that."

Tandi nodded.

"We all are around here. I have to say, baby sitting you is like a cakewalk compared to being back in the main office again-"

"So you think of yourself as my baby sitter?"

Tandi laughed.

"You know what I mean. Being posted in Oxford. It's just easier than having to deal with-"

"Rose!"

Her Uncle Harry was coming down the hall towards them now. Rose gleaned from the expression on Tandi's face that she'd been just about to tell her that it was Harry who was hard to deal with, as now her friend looked flustered and perhaps slightly embarrassed.

"Mr. Potter, sir." Tandi gave a curt nod of her head.

"Oi, Walker, have you read the latest reports from… you know what… yet? I told Savage to leave them on your desk."

"No, sir, but I'll get right on that." Tandi looked ready to turn on her heals, but Harry stopped her.

"No, no, you can finish your conversation first." He looked at Rose again. "So what brings you down here today?"

"I came to visit Albus."

"How's that for security, you just waltzed right into the Auror headquarters?"

"Well, no, Albus put me on the list of visitors-"

"I thought you said you just popped in," Tandi said, probably without thinking, helping no one.

"Just an expression," Rose tried to laugh casually, but her uncle was now eyeing her suspiciously. "Anyway! Hugo got my parents a large box seat at his game tonight against the Harpies, would you and yours like to come along?"

At the mention of Quidditch, Uncle Harry smiled wide and immediately seemed less tense.

"Puddlemere versus the Harpies? That sounds like a great match! They're both at the top of the ranks this season, aren't they?" She nodded emphatically. "Your Aunt Ginny used to play for the Harpies, you know, back when we were first out of school. Wow. It'd be great to go see a game tonight." His face fell a little. "But I think I'll be too busy to go. I'll call Ginny, though, let her know, and you should tell Albus if you haven't already, he needs to get out of the office more – practically have to force him out of here on his days off lately – and James and-" Harry looked over at Tandi. So… Tandi and James were still seeing each other. "And Walker, you should go too, some fresh air would do you good."

"Really, sir?"

"Yeah. If I'm not being terribly rude in inviting you to an event that's not my own."

"Not at all," Rose said. "I'd love to have you come along, Tandi."

"Alright then," Tandi nodded, allowing a brief smile to cross her face before straightening up and looking serious once more. "Then I should probably get back to work now, if I'll be taking tonight off."

With that Tandi backed off, turned down the hall, and began walking away.

"Match starts at seven!" Rose called after her. Tandi acknowledged she'd heard her with a brief raising and flicking of her hand in an abrupt backwards wave.

"Very serious, that one," Uncle Harry said as he watched Tandi go. Then he patted Rose firmly on the arm. "Well, I've got to get back to work as well. But it was good seeing you, Rosie."

"You too, Uncle Harry."

When Rose returned to Albus' cubicle her cousin looked as if he had been sweating.

"If my dad had come in here and seen all this-" he gestured to the vial and parchment, now made visible again "-which, by the way, are not officially sanctioned for my use right now… Ugh, it would've been over."

Rose smiled at her cousin. He certainly did take this job seriously. As he should, she realized. It wouldn't do to have only ho-hum Aurors.

"So, do we know yet?"

"Well, it's not done exactly, but…" Albus pulled a folded sheet of paper from underneath a pile. "See, this is what the fingerprint on page three fourteen looks like-" he nodded towards the paper as he smoothed it out, then he placed it next to the now forming chart. "Interesting…"

There was that word again. But this time Rose could see it for herself. The chart now forming, though it was not completely done yet, looked entirely dissimilar from the smattering of dots from page three fourteen. They weren't a match.

"Well," Rose sighed, "that's a relief."

"Yeah…" Tom said, sounding not quite as enthused. "Does make it difficult to understand, though. I mean, you said you saw him 'confessing.' All signs point to him being the attacker, but…"

"I told you, though, as much as I know what I saw, I know him, and I just have this feeling. I just sense it. It's not Tom."

"Hmph."

"Are you sad that my flatmate's not a killer?"

"No, no," Albus shook his head emphatically. "But if he's not, then there's a lot more I don't understand all of a sudden. And now, I'm back to square one."

"Yeah, but… At least you'll be going to a Quidditch match tonight. That oughta cheer you up, right?"

****

It was nice, that evening, to be surrounded by family and friends. Both her parents, Zoe Chang's mum Cho, Albus, James, and Tandi all sat with her in the box at Puddlemere's vast open air stadium watching as the players zoomed past. Because Cho was there and because Tandi also supported the Harpies – and because Rose was rooting against her brother at the moment – a general air of fun rivalry filled the box. Everyone was having such a good time, no one even noticed when Albus pulled Rose back and away from the rest.

"I've been thinking-"

"You can't tell me you still think it's him-"

"Well… It's complicated, is all, you see-"

"Albus, can't we just relax and watch the match right now?"

"Rose," Albus looked solemn all of a sudden. "Do you understand what's happening? Do you even realize what's going on and what you binded me to by making me swear that oath and telling me all that stuff? We have a duty, now, a job to get to the bottom of this-"

"Albus-"

"Don't roll your eyes at me. This is serious. People could be killed. And, sure, you like your flatmate, he's a pleasant bloke, you get a good feeling about him, but you have to admit, something is definitely fishy. And if you don't want to bring it forward to the rest of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement-"

"I don't!"

"-then you have to work with me to get to the bottom of this." Albus paused. Rose had to admit, he had a point. But tonight? Did they really have to get to the bottom of all this tonight? She didn't want to, she was still enjoying her holiday- But the dark cloud that had been hanging over her, the guilt she felt at being caught between protecting Tom and protecting the people who might be attacked next- It all hit her in that moment. "People could die, Rose. And it's our job now to keep that from happening."

Rose looked into her cousin's face and saw just how serious he was. She thought for an instant of the little boy he'd been, back on the train to Hogwarts that first day, how he'd been so worried he wouldn't get sorted into Gryffindor. Looking at him now she saw he was a true Gryffindor. Brave and going out of his way, potentially putting himself in danger, just to do what he thought was right, all to help others. Rose knew then what she had committed to, and what she had to do.

"You're right," she finally said, quietly. "We've got to figure this out."

There was a loud roar around them all of a sudden. The stadium was erupting in both cheers and boos.

"That's my boy!" Her father was shouting, pointing to where Hugo had just made what was apparently a momentous save. Rose looked over at her parents, smiling and oblivious as they were. It was so easy for them, wasn't it? Of course, they'd been through their own trials. Worse than hers, and when they were younger than she. But it was her turn now, Rose knew. It was her turn now to do what was right. Whatever that was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** In this chapter, Rose decides to return to her favorite childhood playground just because she gets "a feeling." Also, Hermione gets drunk, Tandi gets cranky, and Albus is getting some.  
**Note:** This chapter is slightly shorter. I try to aim for at least 8000 words in each chapter. Just because I decided that was a good length. But this chapter still accomplishes a lot. And if I made it any longer it would be dragggging.  
**Another Note:** I would like to thank Pandora for existing. Internet radio is the best. What did I plug in to make my station, you ask (I know there's not a "you", I just really like writing self-indulgent notes because I like reading them by others)? Well, I set it to "Wake Up" by Arcade Fire and to all Gillian Welch songs ever.  
**And Finally:** Toddlers & Tiaras is a horrific show. I'm addicted to it. I mean, they don't often have child-pageants in Britain, but if they did, Hermione would never make Rose participate in them. Ron might like the spectacle of them, though.

**Chapter 7**

Rose spent the rest of her break going back and forth from her parents' flat over to Grimmauld Place. She and Albus – who, she noticed, was taking more time off now that he was helping her with this… she hoped she wasn't endangering his career any – first went through her Uncle Harry's entire binder of fingerprints to see if Tom's matched any of them. Fortunately, it didn't. Not that this relieved them for long. Seeing that as a dead end, they instead focused their attention on page three fourteen again. Rose knew Albus' intention was to prove that, even though the fingerprints conflicted, Tom was the attacker. Rose sought to prove that Tom was innocent and to, hopefully, discover who the real criminal was. Though they were both working with different goals, they were relying on the same evidence: the newspaper clippings adjacent to the chart on the page.

She had to admit that she had been flummoxed when first reading of the murder of the Melbourne woman a decade and a half ago. Looking into the story further did not relieve her at all. The woman, Rose had learned after going online – and skeptics had said she couldn't learn anything valuable from Muggles! – to expand her research, had been named Gloria Kral, she had been thirty-four years old, and she was survived by a husband and son. She could not find the names of the husband and son. In fact, except for in Gloria's obituary, there was only one mention of her husband at all, and none of her son. The one mention of her husband was just a short blib, saying that while police had detained him for questioning at first, they had thereafter let him go. Most importantly, all the news articles she could find on the subject – including the one pasted into the binder – were from Muggle sources. Not that the murder didn't reek of wizard involvement, Gloria had died with mysterious injuries even the coroner cold not explain, it was just that the wizard news sources had not covered the story.

"I wonder why?" Rose asked to no one out of frustration one day when she and Albus had been pawing through all the Muggle sources.

"Maybe they didn't think it was important?"

"But the Muggle news seemed to think it was important."

"Well… Maybe they didn't want to draw attention to it. Maybe they were scared by it. I mean, wizard authorities were clearly looking into it, they just didn't publicize it in the papers-"

"Why is it so 'clear' to you that wizarding authorities were involved?"

"Because," Albus shrugged, "I assumed that's how my dad found out about this."

That did make sense, Rose thought. So maybe there'd be records somewhere, in the Ministry maybe, or maybe they'd have to go to Australia and search through their-

"Don't." Albus interrupted her thoughts.

"What?"

"I know what you're thinking and don't. I am not risking my Auror arse any more than necessary. If I get caught breaking into fifteen year old investigation records, well… It's just not going to happen."

"Fine," Rose said gloomily, and she moved onto the next clipping. This one was from two years later, and it took place in Mexico. Another murder. Another mystery that eluded local authorities. And again, no wizarding news articles. After that was similar story, not a murder this time, but a series of violent attacks spread throughout India and Pakistan. They'd been chalked up terrorism by the Muggle authorities. It was a two years after the Mexico incident. And then there was the next story, a year later, about attacks in South Africa. And then, another murder- Make that double murder. In America. In New York City. Rose's mind flit briefly to an image of Scorpius Malfoy. She mentally kicked herself. The New York murders had happened a year after the South Africa attacks. And that had been – she looked at the date and subtracted in her head – seven years ago. And that was the last of the attacks, of this fingerprint, until now. Doing a little more math in her head, she approximated that Tom had probably been in Oxford for seven years. The math was not working out in his favor. Rose did not announce this to Albus.

On days when Albus absolutely could not get out of work, Rose, unable to get the binder without Albus to take it from and replace it in her Uncle Harry's study, felt like she was just wasting her time. She dreaded these days when she would be unable to progress in her research. Tomorrow would be one of those days.

Perhaps because she was dreading waking up the next day with no plan and nowhere to go and nothing productive to do, Rose could not fall asleep that night. She lay in bed, wide awake, for a long time, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could force her body into dozing. And her body really was exhausted. It was not her body's fault she couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing. All of the information she'd collected about this attacker, and everything she knew about Tom, it all seemed to be too much. The evidence was all there, in front of her, in piles, but it didn't make sense, it didn't come together. Tom was both obviously guilty and clearly innocent. And more than that was the fact that the more time she spent looking into the background of this attacker, the more she kept getting this nagging feeling, the same nagging feeling she'd gotten that first day she'd come home to the Botley house to find Tom and her Aunty Muriel in the kitchen. She knew Tom from somewhere. He was just so familiar. She'd forgotten this feeling over the past months, as Tom had grown to become actually familiar, but now it seemed to weigh on her and she couldn't shake it.

Finally giving up, realizing that just wanting to sleep was not enough to make herself fall asleep, Rose got out of bed and went over to the bureau pushed up against her wall. Opening the third drawer and feeling around with her hands, she found what she was looking for, under a pile of neatly folded shirts she was sure had not fit her in the years since her growth spurt. Her old diary. She cringed, looking the pink unicorn galloping across the even pinker cover, to think that she once thought pink sparkly unicorns were the height of fashion.

Bringing the book back to her bed, she opened it up to the first page:

_"Property of Rose Cedrella Weasley-Granger. HUGO STAY OUT!!!"_

This had been her first ever diary. Now that Rose thought about it, she had not actually kept a diary in quite some time… Must be at least… Sixth year. Sixth year was when she'd stopped journaling. That was when she became too embarrassed to write her thoughts down anymore. This diary, though, was from a far more peaceful time than that. She'd begged her mother for it. At Flourish & Blotts. When they'd shopping, for the first time ever, for her school books. Yes. It was all coming back to her now. She smiled as she remembered how happy she'd been to run home and start writing right away. She turned the page.

_"Dear Diary,  
I am writing in you because I am a grown up now. Mummy said so. I will leave for Hogwarts in just a month. Hugo told me that no one will like me at Hogwarts and that made me cry but Daddy heard what Hugo said and yelled at him and then we all went out for ice cream."_

She chuckled to herself. She could almost remember writing those words down, could almost feel how she had felt when she'd written them. She flipped a few more pages.

_"Dear Diary,  
It is my last weekend at home before going to Hogwarts and I am very sad to leave but also reallllly excited for my new school because Uncle Harry told Albus who told me that Hogwarts is the best place in the whole world. DOESN'T THAT SOUND FUN!!! Still I am sad to be leaving Mummy and Daddy who will be very sad without me here. Mummy has been spending all sorts of time with me and asks me what I want to do everyday and then we usually get to do it it's great fun. She said she will miss me a lot when I go away. I will miss her too. I asked Mummy if we can go to the park and she said no that she was going to take me shopping for clothes instead because I am a grown up now."_

Rose stopped reading. The park. She'd almost forgotten about it. It used to be one of her favorite places in the world, when she was really little. It'd had a big wooden pirate ship and she loved to climb up to it – it seemed like such a big trek in her memory – and pretend to steer. When had they stopped going to that park? Rose couldn't remember when. She knew when she was eleven, though, at the time she'd been writing this, that she hadn't been to the park in quite some time. Years. She remembered this suddenly. Huh. She had completely forgotten about that park. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps she should go there tomorrow.

Her mind suddenly relaxed itself now that Rose had a plan. Sure, it was a silly plan, but it seemed like such a good idea to her. That Peter Pan park, that was exactly where she was meant to be tomorrow.

Within minutes, she was deep asleep.

****

Waking up the next morning, Rose had felt even more confident in her plan. Arriving at the playground, though, she became less so as she saw the plaque in front of the playground gate. No adults unaccompanied by children would be allowed inside. That seemed horribly unfair to her. Sure, she understood why the rule was in place, but she had no intention of doing anything wrong, she just wanted to revisit one of the favorite places of her childhood.

She tried to think quickly of what to do. She wished for a second that she had some polyjuice potion, in which case she would just morph herself into a child. But she didn't exactly have any polyjuice potion on hand, and anyway, that would look a bit suspicious too, wouldn't it? A child just wandering about on her own. Unaccompanied children were also strictly forbidden. Next she thought that perhaps she could find a child somewhere. But that made her sound a bit like a kidnapper, even in her own mind, so she rejected that option as well. But perhaps if she could find not a child, exactly, but give provide the illusion of an adult and child. Yes, that was it.

Rose reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her mobile. She pushed a few buttons and within seconds it was ringing.

"Hey, Tandi, could you do me a big favor?"

****

About an hour later, Rose met Tandi behind a utility shed near the outskirts of the playground.

"Did you bring it?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, got it right here in my pocket."

"Great! Let me have it-"

"Wait, what exactly are you going to do with this-"

"Change myself into a child and go into the playground."

Tandi glared at her.

"You called me out of work so you could go to a playground?"

"It's important! I told you to ask Albus, and he told you it was important, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did, that's why I'm here. Though I'm beginning to suspect I was lied to-"

"No, see, I just have this feeling that I should go to this playground, that I should be in this playground, and I can't go in there as an unaccompanied adult, and I can't go in there as an unaccompanied child, so I figured the best way around this would be for you to bring me polyjuice potion and then escort me in-"

"What?"

"Just escort me in. That's all. You can pretend to be my aunt-"

"I look like the opposite of you."

"Well, then you can be my nanny!"

"Are you just saying that because I'm black?"

"Tandi! Please!"

"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something?"

"I'm telling you everything!" That wasn't exactly true, Rose thought. But then, the Tom investigation wasn't tied to this at all. Or. There was that feeling again. That feeling that confirmed things for her, that made things perfectly clear. Perhaps this had everything to do with Tom. Now her need to get into the playground was even more pressing. "Look, I'll explain it all later, I promise, but right now, I just have to get in there, before this feeling fades. Please, Tandi. It's important. Very important."

Tandi looked at her, she could feel her eyes boring into her. But finally, her friend gave a half hearted shrug and reached into her pocket, pulled out a small vial, and handed it to Rose.

"I presume you're all ready to drink this?"

"Yeah," Rose said as she pulled a few threads of yellow hair out of her pocket. "I got some hair off a kid while I was waiting for you."

"This just sounds more and more illegal."

"It's not, I assure. I think." Rose uncorked the vial and dropped the hair in. This liquid turned a shade of pink that reminded her of her diary's cover. "Now, when I drink this, I'm going to shrink, so it'd be really useful if you'd, you know, keep watch so that no one sees that and finds that odd."

Tandi rolled her eyes, but consented and, stepping to the edge of the shed, started keeping watch.

As soon as Rose tilted the polyjuice potion to her lips she was overwhelmed with a feeling a delight. The potion tasted like candy floss and made her whole body tingle. She'd never transformed into a child before – in fact, she'd only ever used polyjuice potion once before, during her seventh year when Slughorn had given them all the chance to try it and she and Maria had switched appearances for an hour – and the feeling was very odd. When she'd become Maria she had felt her skin bubble and she had shrunk down a little as she was at least six inches taller than the other girl. But now she was not just shrinking, she also felt as if she was dissolving, as if her outer layers were simply melting away and she was being reduced down in size. It made her wonder, for a brief second, if she should have researched this better, and if perhaps there were some nasty side effects to using polyjuice potion outside one's own age range. But just as she was about to express her worries, the shrinking stopped. Her clothes, far too big for her now, puddled around her, her sleeves falling in large drapes off her arms as she felt through the clothing folds for her wand. When she finally found it she performed a spell that would shrink up her clothing – it wouldn't last long before the clothes stretched out to their normal size again, but she knew she would not need them to stay small for more than hour – and was alarmed by her own voice as she spoke the spell aloud.

She heard Tandi give a dry laugh.

"Well, aren't you just adorable."

"Don't mock me for this, it's worth it."

But Tandi did not stop laughing. Together the two of them walked to the playground. Having been tall for the bulk of her life, it felt very strange now that Rose should only come up to Tandi's mid thigh. The world looked different from down here. She noticed things about the ground she hadn't noticed in years: flowers and butterflies she would normally have walked past.

When they reached the playground gate, Rose found herself reflected back in the silver memorial plaque into which the playground's dedication was etched. She could not believe it. She reached up and ran her fingers through the corn yellow hair which ran all the way down her back. It was much longer than her own hair, which she'd kept short ever since sixth year, and she liked the feeling of it when she shook her head. It tickled. And she laughed.

"You're not actually a child, you know," Tandi bent down so that she was looking her in the face. Rose shrugged. "Don't shrug. It looks eerie when you do. Wrong for a kid." So Rose nodded. "Alright, let's go play." And Tandi pushed open the gate to the playground and the pair of them walked right past the security guards without a problem.

Rose did not run immediately for the wooden ship – which she could feel was where she had to go – but first took the time to jump through the smooth rocky dips in the mermaid pool before doing a lap around the red and white teepees. It felt good to run. She rather liked being a child, she thought. She was jumping up and down on the wobbly rope bridge that led onto the ship when Tandi called out to her.

"Rose, you better hurry up!"

The other mothers and nannies looked at Tandi with disapproving eyes, but she didn't seem to notice. Tandi was right of course, Rose realized. She'd had no idea how much time she'd wasted having fun. Fun was not why she'd gone through all this trouble. So she calmed herself and walked off the rope bridge and onto the main hull of the ship. This was where she was meant to be, she knew. Here, or, closer to the steering wheel.

There was another child at the steering wheel right now. One who looked like he was having quite a bit of fun. And Rose felt bad taking it from him, but she knew she had to do it. So she went right up to the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and looked at her.

"Ew! A girl!" He shrieked, and then turned back to the wheel before she got a chance to ask if she could have a turn. Fine. If that was how he wanted to play it. Rose, her long yellow hair getting in her eyes, leaned forward and puckered up her lips and tapped the boy on the shoulder again. This time when he turned around she caught him square on the cheek and planted a big, wet kiss. "EW!" The boy's shriek was worse this time. "A girl kissed me! A girl kissed me! Mum a girl kissed me! EW!"

Rose watched him run off, satisfied, and wishing boys were still that easy to manipulate, before stepping up to the wheel itself. Yes, this was where she was meant to be. Slowly, cautiously, Rose reached out her hands, balancing them above the steering wheel before, suddenly, she slapped them down against the wood and grabbed on as hard as she could.

And she waited.

This was odd.

She'd been expecting something to happen, she realized now, only after something hadn't happened. What had she been expecting? She thought that figuring out that much at least would probably help. She tried turning the wheel, thinking maybe if she acted like she was steering then this thing would occur to her. Nothing happened, again, but she felt closer at least. She kept spinning the wheel, turning it this way and that, enjoying the feeling of the wood against her hands when she let the wheel go while keeping her palms hovering over the unwinding wheel. She closed her eyes. This was actually kind of fun. She imagined that she really was a child again, how nice that would be, and she imagined what it was like to be a child imagining to be steering a real ship crashing through the ocean or soaring through the sky. She laughed. She erupted with laughter. She felt better than she had in-

She felt a sharp pain in the back of her ankle.

"Ow!" She screamed. There were tears welling up in her eyes. She turned, hopping on one leg, to see the boy she had kissed just minutes before. He had kicked her.

"Ha ha!" Cried the boy. "Got you!"

"Rupert!" Came a woman's voice. "Rupert I saw that, that was not nice, we do not kick. You apologize this instant!"

Before the woman reached them, though, Tandi was at Rose's side.

"We have to go," she said anxiously. "We've only got about two minutes left by my watch."

Just then the woman approached. She looked at Rose and then at Tandi and assuming her to be the girl's chaperone, she started apologizing profusely.

"I am so sorry about that, Rupert knows better, really he does-"

"'S alright," Tandi said, grabbing Rose's hand and starting to pull her away.

"No, really, I am so sorry. And so is Rupert. Say you're sorry, Rupert."

Rupert said nothing.

"Look, it's alright, she's fine, aren't you Rose?" Rose nodded. "Alright then. We really have to go."

"No, no, wait. Rupert has to learn that what he did was wrong. He has to apologize to you."

"Look, I'm sure Rupert feels bad, but we just don't have the time-" Again Tandi tried to pull Rose away, but this time Rupert's mother grabbed onto her arm.

"Really, it's a very bad lesson for him, if he thinks he can just get away with kicking. He has to understand that what he did was wrong. He has to apologize or else he'll never learn-"

"Listen, lady, I think you have a violent kid who's a bit thick and I don't think, even if you could force an apology out of him, that he would mean it in a million years. Now, look, I really have to go."

And with that, Tandi scooped Rose up into her arms and started running towards the exit.

Looking over Tandi's shoulder as they went, Rose saw Rupert's mother chase them for a bit – "Come back here and apologize for saying that about my son!" – before she gave up and they finally made it through the park gates. Tandi only barely made it behind the shed again when Rose could feel herself start to stretch out, her skin feeling tauter and more worn than it had just a moment before. Before Tandi could drop her, Rose was already uncomfortably big for the other girl to be holding. Add in Rose's clothes which were a ridiculously small size, with buttons popping off them as she grew, and the two of them made for a very funny sight. Finally, when the transformation was over and after Rose had adjusted her clothes again and reattached the rebellious buttons, she stood straight up and appreciated her height once more.

"So?" Tandi asked, walking away from the corner of the shed where she had once more been standing guard.

"So? What?"

"So… Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I don't-" Rose began, but then she stopped. It came to her suddenly, as if through a cloud. The boy, when Rupert had kicked her, that had sparked something from deep in her memory and now she was just starting to see through the haze of time and understand what. She got a flash, just an image, of herself when she really had been young – seven, maybe? – and she'd been forced away from that same steering wheel. Thrown off it. And she had fell. And it had hurt. And there had been something different about the fall, about the throw. Something had caused it. Something unusual.

"You don't… What? You just trailed off there. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I- I just remembered something. Something important."

"What?"

"I don't know exactly."

"But you said you remembered it!"

"I do, it's just. It's. It's hard to explain right now." Rose looked at Tandi. She looked upset. "Thank you, Tandi, for your help today. You've been a really big help. More than you know."

"Of course more than I know since you won't tell me what's going on."

"I'll tell you, I promise I will. I'll fill you in on everything, everything Albus and I have been working on-" At this a confused look came across Tandi's face, but she didn't say anything. "I- I have to go. I have to go find my mum."

"Your mum? Why?"

"Because. I have questions for her."

****

Rose decided not to go to her mother's office and interrupt her. She wouldn't get what she wanted that way. So instead she went home and, using her father's owl, sent a message to her mother asking her to meet her that evening at a Muggle bar near the Ministry for drinks. To have a girls' night, she said. And she was pleased when, within an hour, she got a message back from her mother confirming her plans.

Rose arrived at the bar where she'd agreed to meet five minutes early – and was surprised to find her mum already standing there, waiting for her.

"It's always good to be prompt," her mother said. It was a value she had instilled in Rose. "I'm so glad you suggested this," her mum said as they found a seat. "It's always nice to have girl time."

"Yeah, it is. Also, there was something I really wanted to ask you about-"

Just then a waiter appeared. They both ordered a glass of the house sauvignon noir.

"You're really becoming comfortable in the Muggle world, aren't you?" Her mother asked after the waiter had left them.

"I suppose I am," Rose nodded. "I mean. I have you to thank for that, really. I'm grateful, too. That you spent so much of our childhood exposing Hugo and I to a whole different world."

Her mother smiled.

"It's how I grew up. And I'll never get over it. I'll always prefer doing some things the Muggle way."

"Me too, now," Rose said, glad to be starting off their conversation with such a nice moment of mother-daughter bonding. "Now, what I wanted to talk to you about-"

"Here you are," the waiter had returned, holding their two glasses of red wine. He placed a glass in front of each of them and then turned and left again. Rose hoped that would be it for the interruptions during crucial moments.

"Now what were you saying, Rosie?"

"I was saying… Well… There's something I've been… wanting… to talk to you about."

"And what's that?" Then her mother blanched. "Oh, we're not having a sex talk are we?"

"What? No! Gross!" Rose took a big gulp of her wine to cover up her blush. "I- Definitely not a sex talk. Back in December, when Hugo was attacked-" She notice her mother go pale again, for a much different reason this time. "When he was attacked and when he was recovering, I just got the oddest feeling that I'd been to Saint Mungo's before."

"Well…" Her mother stretched out the syllable. "Technically you had-"

"When I was seven, right?"

"You remember that?"

"Sort of. Just did, actually. And it struck me as odd. Because, I remember, just barely, just vaguely, visiting the hospital-"

"Well you were young, and you weren't there for long, less than a day-"

"Yeah, and I'd forgotten why until today."

There was a pause while they both took a drink.

"What do you mean?" Her mother finally asked.

"Well…" And she explained her trip to the playground (leaving out the fact that she'd taken polyjuice to get in) earlier that day, and how when she was leaving she'd had the oddest sensation. "Something happened to me, when I was younger, didn't it? A young wizard, just a boy, he hit me with some sort of spell there, and that's why you took me to the hospital. Isn't it?" But her mother stayed silent. "Mum?"

"Rose, dear, I'm going to ask you to please stop asking questions about this."

Rose had not expected that.

"But why?"

"Because… Because we all do things in our life that we're not proud of, but they're things that we've done and we have to live with the choices that we've made, and… Just, please, Rose, don't ask me about it anymore."

Her mother looked suddenly fragile, broken even, and it was disturbing. All her life her mother had been the driving strength of their family. Always there to fight for her anytime she felt an injustice was being done. And now her mother resembled a meek little mouse the way she was hiding from her questions. Rose had been taller than her mother since the time she was twelve years old, but this was the first time she actually felt larger than her.

"Mum, I don't know what you mean-"

"Please, Rose, no more-"

"But, what do you have to be ashamed of? You've always been perfect. Always. Even in those old stories, of you and Uncle Harry working together to defeat Voldemort. And dad ran off, yeah, and you two still tease him about that, but you, you've never quit anything, you've never given up. What could you possibly have done that you're not proud of? What could you possibly regret?"

"Rose…" Her mother was looking straight down at the table now. "You'll understand when you're older."

"No, no I won't. I'm old now! And I need to know now, mum! It's important, there's- People are getting hurt, the man who attacked Hugo is out there, and I think that, I don't know, I just feel like if I could remember this one day properly, if I could just remember what happened, what I saw, then I would be able to help people. Mum-"

"No, Rose." Her mother stood. "I'm going to head home. I- I'm not feeling very well."

"Fine then."

"Rose- You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know what you're getting into."

"That means there's something to get into, then. There's something you know about-"

"I'm leaving," her mother said. And then she did. Leaving Rose behind.

After finishing both their glasses of wine and paying the tab – which her mother, in her haste, had left for her – Rose left the bar and headed towards Albus' house. She hoped he would be home by now.

"Oh hi, Rose, back again?" Aunt Ginny said as she opened the door.

"Yeah, is Albus-"

"Just got in, he's in his room-"

"Thanks!" Rose cried over her shoulder as she bounded up the stairs.

"But Rose, he's up there with-" But Rose did not hear the rest of what her aunt had to say, so anxious was she to tell her cousin about everything that had happened that day.

"So, guess what-" Rose began as she opened the door to her cousin's room. But then she stopped. There was Albus, yes, and there with him was Patrick Longbottom. And they were kissing. She stood there frozen.

"Rose!" Albus shrieked as he separated from Patrick. Patrick was staring down at his feet now.

"I- I didn't realize you had company-" Rose started.

"Well you should knock first!" Albus snapped.

Silence.

"I should, you know, probably go," Patrick finally said. No one stopped him. Though Rose kept waiting for Albus to tell him not to go.

More silence.

"I…" Rose began, still standing in the doorway. "I did not see that coming."

"Shut up-"

"No, I mean, Patrick Longbottom? I barely know him, is all I mean. We had herbology all together, didn't we? With him and the other Hufflepuffs?"

"Yeah," Albus finally nodded. "Listen, Rose, it's not what you think-"

"You weren't just snogging Patrick Longbottom?" A pause. "Because I'm pretty sure that's what I was thinking I just saw."

"Well, it is, technically, but… I mean, I'm not- I mean… You know me, Rose, you know I'm not… I just… I don't know what happened. Maybe I ate something wrong at lunch."

"Albus, there's nothing wrong with you being-" She didn't want to say 'gay' as he had not said it first. "I love you, Albus, you know that, and I will love you for who you are no matter what."

"Well, it doesn't matter." Albus shook his head. "Because I'm not… that. Aurors just aren't… that."

It was painful to see her cousin this way. He was shifting uncomfortably. At one point his arm reached up to wipe his mouth clean. She wished he would just be honest with her. And with himself.

"Well…" Rose tried to think of something to say. Should she get back on topic with why she came here already? She didn't know what else to talk about. "So… I had an interesting day. As well. I went to the playground. But I bet you know that. I bet Tandi told you." He didn't say anything. "So, yeah, went to the playground – do you know if there's any odd side effect for using polyjuice potion to transform you into a kid, 'cause it was really weird feeling, not unpleasant though – and, so, yeah, went to the playground. And I had the strangest experience while I was there. Like my body was remembering something my mind didn't." She told him about her flashback to being thrown. "Did you ever hear of anything like that?"

More silence. Then finally-

"Well…" Albus still looked agitated, but perhaps a little more perked up than a moment before. "I suppose that, it hasn't happened to me personally, but, I remember reading about something like that. What you described sounds a lot like a side effect from a fading obliviate charm."

"So someone altered my memory?"

"Not necessarily. Though that's what it sounds like… Who do you think did it?"

She knew instantly.

"My mum."

"But, why?"

"Because there's something about that day she didn't want me to remember. And she won't tell me what. I just, before I came here, I was with her and I started asking her questions about that park and her taking me to the hospital and she didn't answer any of them. She seemed really upset too." Rose thought about it. "She must know something. She must. And whatever that thing is, she doesn't want me to know it, obviously, only, I'm pretty sure whatever it is is crucial to our research."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I can feel it."

"Well… Then… We've gotta get it out of her."

"Yeah," Rose nodded. She would have to get her mother to tell her about that day when she was seven, whether her mother wanted to tell her or not. "We'll make her tell us. We will."

****

When Rose returned home it was late already and she expected her parents both to be asleep. But instead her mother was sitting in the living room. The bottle of firewhiskey they'd opened just a few weeks before sat open on the table. It was nearly half empty now.

"Mum?" Rose said as she shut the door behind her and walked further into the flat. "Are you alright?" The closer she got to her mother, she saw that she had been crying. "Mum, what's wrong? I'm sorry if I upset you earlier, but-"

"You were right, Rose." Her mother's voice was quiet. "You're old enough. You deserve to know."

She sat down beside her mum. Her mother took a large gulp of firewhiskey straight from the bottle.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," despite all her talk, when faced with her mother in this state, Rose wanted nothing more than to repair all the damage she had done. "I accept that-"

"Rose, I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone before." Her mother took another deep drink. "Not even your father. Not even Harry."

"Uncle Harry?" Rose asked, and her mother just nodded.

"I- I was young- And, you have to understand, it was a dangerous time- We didn't know if we'd survive, especially Harry- I used to wake up at nights and worry, what would happen if Harry Potter dies, who will save us then?" Rose had never heard her mother speak like this before. "When Ron, your dad, when he left us, it changed things, it made it more real, that we were really there, just barely surviving, and who knew how long it would last- Rose, I don't regret my decision that night, exactly, I just- It's odd to think on it now. It's- I don't think I would do it the same way, anymore. I think I would've said something. I would've told someone. Before it was all too late-"

"But, what's too late? It's never too late! You can still tell me, mum, you can still tell me. That day on the playground, when I was seven-"

Her mother let out a loud wretch.

"I shouldn't have done what I did then-"

"You performed a memory charm on me."

"Yes- You know about that?"

"Vaguely." Rose was conflicted. She was angry at her mother, deeply angry to think that this woman she had always trusted had once betrayed her, and when she was only a child no less. And how many times had she been betrayed since then? But then, this was her mother. Her mother who had surely only been doing what was best.

"I'm sorry, I'm- I will always be sorry, Rose. But I had to do it. You, and Hugo, and your father, you couldn't remember that-" Her mother had charmed all of them? "-I wasn't prepared, I wasn't- It's no excuse. I never would have been prepared, and then I was confronted by- By-"

Rose felt a lump in her throat. She just wanted her mother to tell her already, to spit it out. What? Who? What had happened?

"By who?" Rose finally demanded.

"Your brother." Her mother collapsed in on herself as she said it and her tears fell more fiercely than ever.

But Rose didn't understand. In her memory, what little of her memory survived, Hugo hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't even been near her when she'd been pushed! No, he'd been across the playground, climbing on top of the teepees, while Rose had been on the ship. Rose had been on the ship. Rose had been at the steering wheel.

_"Move out of the way."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because I told you to."_

_"But I was here first, it's my turn to play-"_

_"Move."_

_"No."_

_"Move."_

_"No! I was here first!"_

_There was a flash of bright red light and then she was flying and then she was hitting, hard, the wooden side of the boat. Her side ached. She screamed._

_"Mummy!"_

_Her mum was coming. Her mum was running over. She would fix this._

_The boy who had hurt her, the boy who had threw her, he just stood there, a cruel smile forming on his lips, his emerald green eyes glazed over with a hatred she had never seen before. She was frightened. She was scared down to her bones. This boy could hurt her._

_Her mother appeared and scooped her up. She was safe again._

Those eyes. That boy. That bright red light. It had been Tom.

"Tom?" Rose asked aloud, surprised by her own discovery.

The name caught her mother's attention and she seemed to sober, just a little, as she met Rose's eyes.

"Tom."

It was difficult to breathe. Everything was crashing in on her. She was trying to put it together. She had to think. Instead, she grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey from the coffee table and took a big swig. It burned as it made its way down her throat and she coughed. She understood, she realized. She understood her mother's secret.

"Tom is my brother?"

The quiet felt like it stretched forever as Rose waited for her mother's answer.

"Yes," her mother finally said, in no more than a whisper.

"Tom is my brother… Your son… And… Uncle Harry is his father?"

Her mother nodded, a cold, steely nod, tears dripping down her cheeks.

"We all have things we're not proud of-" Her mother began this line of thought again, but Rose didn't want to hear it.

Tom was her brother. And Tom had tried to hurt her. And he might try to hurt her again because she'd recognized that look in his eyes, in her memory of the park. That was the look she'd seen the night she'd found Tom in the Botley living room, bleeding from his leg. Because Tom was her brother, but – and she knew this next bit was true, no matter what his fingerprint said – he was also a killer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** In this chapter: Rose's chain of discoveries continues as she goes to the library to do some research. Also, she has dinner with Ginny and James, Albus is being a grump, a Ministry official gets offed, and Tandi doesn't want Rose to jump off the Magdalen Bridge come May Day.  
**Note:** If the last chapter and this one seemed slow going, don't worry, because after this the pace is picking up, full speed ahead.  
**Another Note: **Another short-ish chapter.  
**And:** I'm going out of town for the weekend, so I might not be posting Chapter 9 'til Monday. So I hope you enjoy 8! Or at least tolerate it. As this story works its way to exciting parts.

**Chapter 8**

Rose wanted nothing more than to be cold and practical and analytical. She wanted to separate herself somehow from this new information – that she had another brother, that this brother had a different father, that this brother was a murderer – and play the investigator again. Because 'having a feeling' that her 'flatmate' was a 'good bloke' was very different from having a brother and suddenly being forced to decide whether or not to turn him into the proper authorities. For the moment, Rose decided to take only the smallest step. She hugged her mother until her mother stopped crying and, finally, fell asleep. Rose felt keenly the reverse in their mother-daughter relationship in that instant as she pet her mother's head and held her like she was a child. She did not like it.

The next morning, after her parents had both left for work – her mother not mentioning anything from the night before, perhaps she'd drunk too much to remember, or perhaps she was just embarrassed, so used to, like Rose, bottling things up that the sudden release of old secrets would take time to adjust to – Rose went over to Grimmauld Place, but Albus had left for work already.

"I thought Albus had the day off-" She began, looking at the shriveled Kreacher who had answered the door.

"Master Harry and Master Albus are very busy, very busy, it's a very busy day for Master Harry and Master Albus."

Knowing she wouldn't get anymore out of Kreacher she simply left and decided to head over to the Ministry.

Arriving at the familiar entrance on Level Two, Rose could barely take a step out of the lift before a set of large wizards approached her, wands out.

"State your business!" The larger of the wizards said, a bulky fellow who looked like solid muscle said as he stuck his wand right under Rose's chin. Rose had never encountered security like this before.

"I- I'm here to see my cousin-"

"No visitors allowed today."

"But, you see, it's really important-"

"No visitors allowed today."

The bulky wizard's friend was inching closer.

"Yes, see I get that, but, see, I'm not here just for a chat or anything, it's- It's really important- Family emergency, see- And I need to- Please!" She felt Mr. Bulky's wand tip begin to burn a little under her chin. She was pressing it, she knew. She was like to be none-too-nicely ejected from the building soon, but she had to see Albus. So she pulled out the one trump card she had. "Harry Potter is my uncle!"

"No. Visitors. Allowed. Today. Not even relatives of Harry Potter." The two men grabbed her underneath her arms, each taking one, and carried her the few steps back to the lift and pushed the button. Waiting around like this was a bit uncomfortable, but Rose didn't want to push her luck any further by suggesting that she could show herself out. Finally the lift arrived and as soon as the doors opened the two men together chucked her in.

"And stay out!" She heard one of them scream as the doors were closing. "Spoiled brats always think family names will get them places…"

And then the doors were closed for good.

Rose went to the main lobby. Her, perhaps idealistic, hope was that she'd recognize an Auror walking through, someone she could get to pass a message along to Albus for her. But no Aurors came. After waiting around for over an hour, Rose decided there were better ways she could whittle down her time.

She left the Ministry. When in doubt, she thought, research. And so she took off in the direction of Saint James Square to go to her favorite library. Approaching the sturdy marble building she walked right up to the heavy wooden doors as if she was going to open them up, but then at the last second, took a sharp left – she always closed her eyes for this part as she'd heard awful stories about wizards who'd unknowingly had their memberships revoked and had, when they tried that turn, merely wound up smashing into the marble archway – and stepped into the wizarding entranceway. Giving a quick sigh of relief as she found her footing in the brightly lit main hall, she smiled at the wizened librarian sitting behind the front desk who only barely looked up before she walked over towards the card catalogue. Flipping through, knowing what she wanted to find, she located the general section numbers she would have to go to and then took off down a side hall. She'd been afraid the books she wanted would be restricted, but, now that she thought on that, her fear had perhaps been foolish. After all, it was only history, right? And, as she'd just recently had reaffirmed to her by her mother, history was full of things we might regret, but it did not mean we should shelve that information and lock it away forever.

Taking a few more twists in her path until she found herself deep into the stacks, Rose finally located the section she wanted. It was very cramped and musty in this part of the library, and the books looked as if they'd been untouched since they'd been originally shelved. When she turned and stretched to point her wand at a book high above her she felt her other arm bump into the parallel bookshelf. If she suffered from claustrophobia this place would be terrible, but fortunately Rose had always felt comfortable around books, and big stacks of them only made her feel even better. The book she'd wanted descended and hovered just in front of her, opening itself up and letting her read a little bit. Yes, this book would be fine. But there were more she wanted too. So, accumulating a nice pile of books and setting herself with the – thankfully distracting – task of making her way through all these materials, Rose left the tight shelves to find a reading cubicle. She sat down in the first one she came across, used her wand to line the books up so that they displayed themselves to her and then she picked the one with the very handsome wizard on the back cover, just so she wouldn't have to watch him wink at her any longer. It was disturbing.

_Voldemort's Second Coming: A Survivor's Tale_ by Gilderoy Lockhart. She flipped it open. There were many personal accounts of the author fighting off Deatheaters – Rose didn't remember hearing of Lockhart ever and so made a note to ask her parents about him later… ask her father, perhaps – but nothing especially insightful was being said, so Rose set the book aside making sure the winking man was facing down. Next she picked up a more studious looking tome, thicker and leather bound, very official looking. And it was promising, but in the end yielded nothing that she didn't already know. She picked up a third book and started the process over again, and then again, and then again. Soon, Rose was down to her last book, just a thin little thing, anonymously written. Opening it up, not expecting much, and ready to soon call it quits for the day, Rose felt a strange tingling of warmth – hope? – spread across her body as she flipped to a random page and saw a colored drawing of a locket. It looked simple, just a squarish oval, with an intricate S engraved on the front, but as Rose moved the book closer to get a better look, the drawing became animated and the locket opened up. As it opened it turned from gold to a deep red. The book suddenly felt hot, burning almost, though the pages did not catch fire. Underneath the picture of the locket was a caption: _One of the Horcruxes made by Voldemort. Said to have been destroyed by Ronald Weasley when he rejoined Harry Potter and Hermione Granger._ Beneath that a paragraph continued from the previous page.

"_-which was made by Salazar Slytherin himself, went through many owners before Voldemort got hold of it and transformed it into a Horcrux, probably sometime in the mid-1940s. This locket could easily be considered the most difficult of all the Horcruxes as it reportedly created the infamous riff between Weasley and Potter which would, perhaps not coincidentally, be mended at the time of the locket's destruction. In addition to the extreme emotional toll the locket took on those seeking to destroy it, it resulted in many physical injuries, most notably when the locket nearly drowned Potter, and, a month earlier, when it burned him during the Attack at Godric's Hollow, leaving him with a permanent red scar in the shape of the locket on his chest."_

There was more, but Rose stopped reading. The description of the scar, red and ovoid, and on the chest. That was what Tom had, too. If Uncle Harry was Tom's father, was it possible – and it must be possible, because this must have been what happened – that Uncle Harry had passed the scar on to Tom? And if he had, she wondered, had he also passed on part of the horcrux as well? The red glow and heat emanating from the pages became to much for her suddenly and she snapped the book shut. She didn't know much about horcruxes. They were dark magic, she understood, but they weren't something she'd ever been taught about at Hogwarts. Everyone knew about them, of course, she'd grown up knowing the lore that Voldemort had used these powerful, evil little trinkets called horcruxes to keep himself alive; there was even a candy, Hot Cinnamon Horcruxes which were hard clumps of sugar shaped like miniature ordinary objects that oozed spicy red syrup when one bit into them, named after them. But knowing about them was not understanding them. Something from that locket, she was sure of it now, had transferred from Uncle Harry to Tom, all through the angry red welts they both had on their chests.

Of course, to the best of her knowledge – she thought back to when they were younger and they'd all gone swimming in the pond near the Burrow and she'd seen the boys in their swim trunks – neither James nor Albus (nor Lily, for that matter, she shouldn't be sexist) bore the red mark. So there was something specifically about Tom. The book had said that Uncle Harry had been burned during the Attack at Godric's Hollow. Maybe- She didn't want to think it, so she tried to think of it in that cold, analytical way she preferred, instead of making it personal. Maybe Tom had been… conceived… just after the attack. Maybe that was why the burn had transferred to Tom, because the burn had still been fresh. This seemed like a very logical conclusion. Still, she felt she was going to have to verify this- She didn't want to verify it. She really didn't want to ask her mother about it. She really didn't even want to think about her mother right now at all-

Rose, keeping the thin book with her and leaving the rest on the desk, stood and walked away from her cubicle, towards the main hall and the check out desk. She tossed the book in her bag as she walked out of the library and made her way towards Grimmauld Place – Albus had to be home by now, right? – feeling as if, in the past twenty-four hours, she had many important discoveries, and yet as she hadn't been able to share them with anyone, they were all just bubbling inside her, ready to explode out any second. She was so worried that she'd forget some crucial detail, that something would escape her again, that she practically ran all the way to Grimmauld Place.

Again, Kreacher opened the door.

"Hi, Kreacher, is Albus home yet?"

"Master Albus is very busy today. Very busy."

She frowned.

"Well… Do you know when I can expect him back?"

Kreacher shook his head. The extra flesh hanging off his ears wobbled as he did so.

"Master Albus and Master Harry are going to be busy for a long time. A long, long time."

"Well…" She was getting tired of dealing with Kreacher. "Is Aunt Ginny home, at least?"

"Mistress Ginevra is in the kitchen. She is cooking even though Kreacher is supposed to do the cooking. Mistress will not let Kreacher cook-"

"Thanks, Kreacher!" Rose said, cutting the house elf off and pushing past him into the warm and glowing entryway. She heard him continue his ranting as she ran down to stairs towards the kitchen. Her Aunt Ginny was standing at the stove, but turned towards the door, her eyes wide.

"Rose," her aunt smiled at her, "you scared me running down the stairs like that. I thought you were Harry coming to tell me something awful had happened."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but- Were you expecting something awful to happen?"

Aunt Ginny turned back to the stove where she had something boiling in a pot.

"Oh, you know, a mother always worries…" Rose was not sure this was the truth. "Now, I'm sure you're looking for Albus, but I'm afraid he's not home-"

"I know, Kreacher told me. I was just wondering if you knew when Albus would be getting home?"

The red haired woman shook her head.

"No, I don't. Harry sent me and owl that they're really busy right now in the Auror office. Something's come up, so they might be working all night." Ginny paused. "I hope not, though." She looked over at Rose again. "Would you like to stay for supper? I've made enough soup to feed an army."

"No-" Rose began, but then thought against it. She was in no mood to go home and face her mother. "Actually, yeah, that'd be great."

"Great!" Aunt Ginny smiled at her. She really looked just like her daughter Lily, Rose thought. Same hair, same smile.

Rose actually had a nice dinner with Aunt Ginny. As nice as it could be, at least, considering she had the weight of quite a bit of pertinent information resting upon her mind. And Aunt Ginny seemed distracted too. No doubt she didn't like having a husband and son in such a dangerous profession.

Just as they were cleaning up they heard more footsteps bounding down the stairs to the kitchen. Again, her aunt tensed, but then the door pushed open, and there stood James, lazy smile on his face.

"Hey mom, still got food?"

"Garden vegetable soup," her aunt nodded, and James walked over to the stove, smelled the aromas wafting off the soup pot, and then ladled himself out a bowl.

James sat down at the table and seemed to notice Rose for the first time.

"Oh, hey Rose," he said, giving a smile and a nod and then began rapidly shoveling soup into his mouth. "What're you doing here?" Soup slipped out the corner of his mouth as he asked.

"Just wanted to visit."

"You go back to school soon, don't you?" Aunt Ginny asked as she brought over a napkin and, with her wand, snuck it under James' chin.

"Yeah, really soon, just two more days."

"Are you looking forward to getting back?"

"I am, but…" But the flatmate she was going back to was her secret brother and a murderer? "You know… It's always sad to leave home."

"Yeah," nodded James. "That's why I always come back to visit."

"Only when you want a free meal," Aunt Ginny said as she continued cleaning the kitchen. Rose bet Kreacher wouldn't like her cleaning either.

"Well… I was supposed to be meeting up with Tandi tonight, but then I got an owl saying she had to cancel, so I thought…" He looked up at his mother and smiled. "It's great to have me home, though, you love it."

Her aunt smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Tandi cancelled on you?" Rose asked. "I guess the all the Aurors are really busy."

"They are," James took another big slurp of soup and then put his spoon down. "I tried to send a reply owl when I got hers and it was returned to me un-opened. You know it must be hectic when no communication's getting in."

No communication? Rose wondered if that were literally true, if no communication meant no communication or just no wizarding communication. Because while the Aurors could have guards blocking visitors and could send away owls, could they really stop something they wouldn't be expecting? Rose felt in her jacket pocket for her mobile.

"Thanks so much for the soup," Rose said as she stood. She walked over and hugged her aunt.

"Anytime, Rose," Aunt Ginny smiled at her. "Tell Ron and Hermione I say hi."

"Will do."

As soon as Rose was out of the house and back on the street – getting a stern look from Kreacher as she went, apparently he did not approve of running in his master's house – she pulled the phone from her pocket and dialed. She was getting much better at using this thing, she thought as she held it up to her ear and listened to it ring. On the seventh ring she was just about to hang up when Tandi answered.

"Hullo? Rose? Is everything alright?" Tandi's voice sounded frantic. If whatever was happening with the Aurors was making Tandi nervous for Rose's safety then Rose may as well use this to her advantage.

"No, it's not. It's… It's an emergency. I need you to meet me. Quickly. And bring Albus, if you can."

"I'll see what I can do."

They picked a meeting place nearby, a busy street corner – was Tandi worried about Rose being alone right now? – and Rose waited for Tandi and Albus to arrive. They were there within minutes, both of them looking deeply harried.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Were you attacked?"

Seeing them now, panicking, Rose thought that maybe her stretch of the truth to get them here hadn't been the best plan.

"I discovered something."

"You… discovered something?" Albus already looked angry. "Are you trying to get me thrown out-"

"Something important! Something about Tom!"

"Ohhh," Albus rolled his eyes. "Something 'important' about Tom, well then, glad I threw my career away for that. Yeah, a 'discovery' is totally worth the trouble we'll be in for stunning those bodyguards-"

"You stunned the body guards? Like the ones keeping people out of the Aurors' office? Why would you do that?"

"I don't know? Maybe because you said it was an _emergency_-"

"What did you discover about Tom?" Tandi interrupted Albus. Her face looked stony.

"Well, it's kind of a lot, I guess, but…" She told them about the night before, about finding out Tom was Harry Potter's son – she did not mention her mother – and about the book she'd found and her new theory about the red scar and the horcrux and-

"Slow down," Albus interrupted her. "Tom is my brother?"

"It makes sense, when you think about it, doesn't it? You two look practically identical-"

"What about this scar?" Tandi interrupted again. She seemed very focused.

"It's on his chest, just above his heart, and-" she pulled the library book out of her bag "-it looks just like this locket. Well. I mean. It's an oval, but a squarish oval, like this locket. And when you read this paragraph, about the horcrux, about how it spread bad feelings and burned Uncle Harry and I think that passed on to Tom because he was conceived just after my uncle got the burn scar-"

"How do you know that?" Albus asked.

"Because… Because I do. Because I've put it together. All the math, all the timelines. Tom, his timeline matches exactly with the attacker's. I mean, I don't know that exactly-exactly, since I don't know his timeline exactly-exactly, but I know that he traveled all his life, since his mum died, in Melbourne, at the time of that first murder-"

"You never told me that-" Albus began.

"I didn't want to. Because I didn't believe it could be connected. Don't look at me like that, there's a lot of people in Melbourne, there was a chance it was a coincidence-"

"I don't believe in coincidences-"

"Well I agree with you now, alright? It's connected. He's connected. And seven years ago, when the attacks stopped, that's when Tom came to Oxford. And he was saying, when I found him, the confession time, he was saying that he didn't want to leave Oxford because it'd been so good there. And I bet that meant _he'd_ been so good there, or he hadn't killed anyone at least-"

"What," Tandi interjected, "are you talking about?"

"Tom, I think he's the person who attacked you, and Hugo, and Shacklebolt-"

"You know about the attack on Shacklebolt? Wait. Don't answer that. You _know_ that Tom's the attacker? You have evidence?"

"Only what I just told you, but-"

"I knew it!" Tandi shrieked, loudly, and unexpectedly. Both Rose and Albus instinctively jumped back. The Muggles who'd been passing by looked startled and people started to make a wide circumference around them. "I knew it, I've been trailing him like a- And you've had evidence all this time? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I- I didn't know you'd been trailing him. You've suspected Tom this whole time?"

"Well, since December."

"But, why didn't you tell me?"

Tandi shrugged.

"I don't know. You're not an Auror."

"But he's my flatmate!"

"So, wait, I'm Tom's brother? Does that mean I'm evil too?"

"No-" Tandi began, but Rose stopped her.

"He's not evil."

They both stared at her, both looking slightly appalled.

"Yeah, Rose, I'm pretty sure he is."

"No," she shook her head. "I- I just get this feeling. You didn't see it. You didn't see him, that morning, after Shacklebolt cut him." For Tandi's benefit, she retold the whole story, explaining about finding Tom bleeding, calling a mediwizard – she didn't say who – to patch him up, and then the next morning, the bizarro happy breakfast that turned so suddenly sour, and then finding him crying in front of the fireplace. "I don't think evil people behave that way. He felt remorse, real remorse and, I don't know, I don't think he remembered attacking anyone-"

Albus shook his head.

"Don't be naïve, Rose-"

"I'm not! I'm just, I was there, I saw him, he didn't remember. And the night before when I'd found him, he'd been different. His eyes had been all glazed over and-"

"Evil looking? Because that's how evil people's eyes look."

"Yes, I suppose his eyes looked 'evil,' but they didn't stay that way. It was almost like he was a different person. And that's what I was wondering, when I discovered this-" she held up the book about the locket "-because maybe it's really not him who's doing the attacks. Maybe it's… Maybe it's Voldemort."

Both the Aurors looked aghast.

"No, couldn't be-" Albus started.

"Just think of the fingerprints. The fingerprint on three fourteen, how it almost matches Voldemort's, and how when we traced Tom, his was completely different-"

"You traced Tom?" Tandi asked. "How long have you two been at this?"

"Since break started."

"Huh. We could've pooled our resources a lot sooner."

"So…" Albus looked down at his watch. Rose knew he was not hearing what he wanted to hear and so he was growing impatient. He also seemed especially edgy today, and Rose had to wonder if that had anything to do with her walking in on him and Patrick Longbottom the day befoe. "Not to ruin this little get-together, but… We just seriously caused problems at the Ministry. And this Tom stuff is important, sure, I mean, I've said he was a killer since the start, but, okay, now that Rose is on board with the idea we have to act now. Only, do you actually have a plan Rose, or did you just call us out of work to talk to us?"

"No I didn't just- I mean- It's important-" She was stuck. She didn't have an actual plan. "I mean… You haven't really ruined your careers, have you?"

Albus gave a loud groan and doubled over in annoyance.

"We can… We can say something, I'm sure," Tandi charged on, ignoring Albus' dramatics. "We can tell them about Tom-"

"No!"

"Rose, really, they have to know-"

"But it's not- He's not- I know he's not evil. I _know_ it."

"Well, even if 'he's' not evil, he still has something of Voldemort in him – you said that yourself, don't deny it-" Tandi stopped her before she could open her mouth. "And if he has even a little piece of Voldemort inside him, that seems like something the Aurors should know about-"

"But they'll just take him away and lock him up!"

"Probably," Tandi nodded. "But it would be for the greater good."

"'For the greater good'? You would lock up an innocent man-"

"He killed his own mother." Albus said, then stopped. "If she was his mother. What was she doing in England, with my dad, after the Attack on Godric's Hollow?"

Rose chose not to answer that.

"He's not evil. I can feel it. And- And I can prove it-"

"How?"

"I don't know yet. But I'll figure something out. I go back to Oxford in two days-"

"You're not going to stay living in that house with him are you?"

"Yes, I am. And I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

"Getting yourself killed won't get you to the bottom of anything but a six foot deep-" Albus began.

"I won't get myself killed-"

"Want to bet? Oh, right, you won't be able to pay me my winnings when you're dead-"

"Will you two stop it? You're both acting like children!" Tandi gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, as far as I can tell it, what we should be focusing on now is this horcrux locket. Maybe if we can find out more about it, how and when it was made and such, we can figure out how it transferred its energy – maybe, if that is what happened – into Tom."

"But the locket was destroyed, it says so in my book-"

"So? We don't need the locket itself to understand how it was made into a horcrux. We just need to… I don't know… Do research maybe? Just focus on the locket. Understanding locket should be our main goal."

"Our main goal should be capturing a known murderer-"

"Albus-"

"Fine. Fine. But. Having 'a plan' about this locket still doesn't actually solve our first problem. We just stunned two guards and walked out in the middle of a pretty crucial investigation. Oh, that's right, you don't know, Rose. Yeah. Your buddy killed someone again." Rose felt her stomach spin. "A Ministry official." And then her stomach fell. "And we walked out when we should've been trying to catch him. So. How are we going to get back into the Ministry without upsetting everything? My dad's going to kill me. I should've known better."

"Don't worry," Tandi said. "I'll take the fall."

"But then you'll lose your job! And you're so close to being certified."

"I know," Tandi gave a curt nod. "But I… can explain things differently. I can get away with this. I mean, we'll both be punished for sure. But I can save our jobs at least."

"A Ministry official died? Who?"

"Can't tell you," Tandi said, then glared at Albus. "We weren't supposed to say anything about it at all. Which reminds me, how did Rose hear about Shacklebolt?"

"I won't tell anyone, I promise, but it seems important that I know what's going on with these attacks-"

"It was one of Shacklebolt's bodyguards." Albus directed his words at Rose. "During another attempt on the Minister. Which doesn't bode well for-"

"And why hasn't it been in the papers-"

"Why haven't any of his attacks been in the papers? It's basically Voldemort's fingerprint doing the killings, some journalist would discover that and then- Mass hysteria doesn't help anyone."

"I suppose you're right…"

"Albus, we really should be getting back now."

"And you have a plan that will get us off the hook?"

"I… have special rights."

Rose would have asked what Tandi meant by this, but she felt that she'd already asked too much of her friend. And so she let them go, and hoped that they'd been fine. And then she began mentally preparing herself to move back in with Tom.

****

Rose tried her best over the next two days to avoid her mother at all costs. She found she was actually quite good at evading her mum, but then realized this probably had something to do with the fact that her mum probably wasn't too keen on confronting her either.

So, two days after the groundbreaking conversation with Tandi and Albus, and a few more hours spent in the library since then, she apparated from her parents' flat to a spot in an alley just off Botley Road. By the time she'd walked the few short blocks to the house she was breathing heavy in anxious anticipation. This was it.

Walking into the entryway Rose dropped her bag.

"Hullo!" She called. "Tom, are you home?"

No reply. Good. She felt relieved. She could delay their meeting for a little longer. Though she wasn't so sure what she was anxious about. She'd seen him a few weeks ago, with Albus, and he had been perfectly cordial, friendly really, to her then. He had, apparently, forgotten the entire incident of when she'd caught him in front of the fireplace. And so he'd treat her just as he always did. After all, he didn't know she now suspected him of being a killer.

There was knock at the door. Rose jumped. Why? If Tom was coming to murder her he surely would've just let himself into the house.

Rose went to the door and opened it up. Tandi stood there.

"Hey! Just came to check on-"

"He's not here."

"Good," Tandi breathed a sigh of relief. "So, I thought it'd be best if I moved in."

"What? No! He's attacked you. Clearly there's something in you that brings out the Voldemort in him. Hell, there's something in you that brings out the Voldemort in me. So, no, you can't live here."

"Well you can't live here with him by yourself."

"Yes I can. He won't hurt me." And she got the feeling that this was absolutely true. "Anyway, this is my Aunty Muriel's house and who says she'd allow you to move in?"

"I'm dating her nephew-"

"That means nothing to her. She has seventy-eight nephews that I know of. Chances are you've dated one or more of them before without knowing it."

"Well…" Tandi could see she wasn't going to get her way. "Alright, I won't move in-"

"Good."

"But I'm gonna start keeping a stricter watch on the house."

"As long as Tom doesn't know you're here. And preferably if I don't know you're here either. The idea of being watched creeps me out a little."

"Fine," Tandi agreed. "I'll make sure you never see me."

They paused. They were both standing in the cramped entryway. It was getting a little uncomfortable.

"Alright then, see you later-"

"Yes, yes see you later."

****

Tom came home so late that night that Rose did not see him. When she left in the morning, he was still asleep. She hoped he wasn't tired because he'd been out killing the night before.

That evening when their paths did cross, though, everything seemed normal between them. As normal as it could be with Rose putting on a fake smile. They discussed her new tutorials and then played a game of wizards chess. And at one point Rose could've sworn she'd heard a shrub outside their window give an annoyed sigh. But, all and all, the evening was fine. In the sense that Tom did not even once mention wanting to kill her.

And this continued for the rest of the week. Perhaps because the pretty weather was cheering Tom up. After all, it was the last week in April and it was getting to be very nice in Oxford. Not warm, exactly, but the biting cold was long gone and flowers were beginning to spring up on Hertford lawn. And May Day was coming up, which everyone was already talking about.

The first Friday back, Rose and her friends sat together, glad to be reunited, in the Hertford pub.

"I'm going to jump off the bridge," Howard bragged before taking a great swig of beer. "Police be damned."

"Me too!" Cried Geri. Then she reached over next to her and took Howard's free hand in hers.

"I don't know if I'm going to jump," Minh said. "The water under Magdalen bridge is pretty shallow. Remember last fall when we took out that punt-"

"How can I forget?" Alex interrupted. "I fell in. Right under that bridge. Believe me, it is rocky there."

"Yeah," Rose nodded. "I don't think I'm going to jump in either. Though…" She could always charm the water to run a little deeper that day. "Maybe I will-"

"No." Tandi's voice was flat. "No you will not jump."

Everyone besides Tandi and Rose laughed.

"Who died and made you the boss of Rose?"

A Ministry official, Rose wanted to say. But didn't. For obvious reasons.

"I just know Rose couldn't take it," Tandi said dryly. "She's delicate."

Again, everyone laughed, but Rose.

When they all parted ways for the night, Tandi declared her intention to walk Rose all the way home. Rose looked longingly at Osney Island as they passed it, missing the days when Tandi used to turn off there. Not that Tandi wasn't still her friend, she'd just gotten a lot more demanding, and controlling, and snappish lately. Understandably, Rose thought. But still. It wasn't much fun to be around her all hours of the day.

At the door to the Botley house, Rose tried to shake Tandi.

"Well, I'm home now, safe and sound."

"I'm coming in with you."

"But… why?" Rose whinged.

"'Cause," Tandi began, "I have something to show you."

"Something you couldn't've shown me earlier?"

"Not in front of Muggles, no."

And with that Tandi pushed her way past Rose and into the house. Rose was glad to find that Tom was not yet home.

"Now what was so important-"

"This." Tandi opened up the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a book. She handed it to Rose.

Rose looked at the book. It was an art history text. There was a bookmark coming out maybe halfway through.

"What's this?"

"A book. Now open it up to the marked page."

Rose did as she was told. There was a larger black and white photograph of a painting. A painting, of a woman almost eclipsed by a gown so vast it blent in with the background, that looked vaguely familiar, so that she was sure she'd seen it on posters and calendars and notecards before. Rose looked at the side note. It was a painting by Gustav Klimt.

"What about this?"

"Don't you see?"

"Obviously not."

"Read the side note."

"I did. _'Adele Bloch-Bauer I' by Gustav Klimt_."

"And?"

"And?"

"There's more to the note than that!" And it was true, there was. But all it gave were fine letter details of where the photograph had been taken. "So? Do you see it?"

"I still don't get it."

"Rose, you are too smart to be this thick." Tandi grabbed the book from her and read aloud. "_Photograph taken in the apartment of Hepzibah Smith shortly before her death in 1945._" She read it again, then paused. "Get it now?"

"I don't know why you couldn't have shown me this back at the pub."

"Because! Rose! Put it together! Where did Voldemort get the locket in the first place?"

"The book said it had been his mother's-"

"And then his mother sold it to Borgin and Burkes where Hepzibah Smith purchased it. Haven't you done any researching outside of that one book?"

Yes, but nothing especially consequential. She had read that ridiculous autobiography by the attractive wizard from cover to cover, though. It had been wildly entertaining, though she doubted much of it was factually based.

"I've been busy with the new term-"

"Rose! I thought we agreed that learning about the locket was the best way to learn about what might be going on with…" She didn't say Tom's name out loud, perhaps for fear that it would somehow summon him.

"No, it is the best way, top priority, it definitely is…" She wasn't as sure about that as she was trying to sound. "But, I mean, a picture of a picture that was in Hepzibah's house? I don't know what this is supposed to mean to me."

"Well… This picture was taken shortly before her death, right? And Tom Riddle killed her to get the locket, and killing is the first step to making a horcrux-"

"It is?"

"Yes! Oh, alright, I'll let it slide you don't know that. That's probably more of an Auror thing to know than common knowledge."

"Makes the candies seem horribly inappropriate, doesn't it?"

"Rose… If this picture was in Hepzibah's house when Tom Riddle killed her and got the locket, well, then, there's a good chance that the picture will be able to tell us what really happened that day. She might be able to shed some light on that locket."

"But, while that's a fine idea and all…" Rose took the book back now and pointed, as if it were her turn to call Tandi stupid. "This is a Muggle picture in a Muggle book. I'm pretty sure this is a Muggle painting-"

"Then why would Hepzibah have wanted it? She only collected wizarding artifacts from what I've read. Plus, you must know, Klimt was a wizard and all."

"He was?"

"You know very little of art history, don't you?"

"I suppose so."

"I guess that makes sense, then."

"What makes sense?"

"It makes sense that you never caught onto Tom's obsession with Kokoschka, another wizard. And that Freudian tell-tale – you do know who Freud is don't you?"

"Yes I know who Freud is," Rose snapped. She was not used to being talked down to this much. Of course, she also wasn't used to being this generally ignorant on a subject.

"Well, when I asked him about the Kokoschka play, he called it '_Murderer_, The Hope of Women'."

"Is that not the name of the play?"

"Well, no, it could be. But as the title's in translation it can go a few different ways. Typically the play's just called '_Murder_, The Hope of Women". Not '_murderer_'. It seemed peculiar to me that he chose the version of the title that he did."

"So that's why you suspected him? Because he said a title – which could be said a certain way – that certain way?"

"Well, I mean, that wasn't all… I already suspected him by that point. And, if you recall, that was the night I was attacked. So maybe he knew I was onto him."

Rose was doubtful about this. She thought Tandi was starting to read too much into things. Or maybe not 'start'. Maybe she'd been doing this for a long time.

"Alright, well, leaving all your Oshkosh stuff aside-"

"Kokoschka."

"Whatever. Pushing that aside. Now we know that this painting possibly witnessed the horcrux-ifying of the locket. So we should talk to the painting. How do we go about doing that? Who got this when Hepzibah died?"

"Well, it was tricky. See, the painting never should have gone to Hepzibah in the first place as the Nazis stole it from the actual owner and sold it at auction-"

"We're dealing with Nazis now?"

"Well, no, not anymore, but, they did really screw up the art world in addition to all the other fuckery-"

"Which, that 'other fuckery', you have to admit, is worse than selling some paintings-"

"Anyway," Tandi tried to get them back on track, "after Hepzibah died the painting was sent back to Austria and put in a museum-"

"So we're going to Austria?"

"No. Because, in his will, the original owner left the painting to family members and so they went to court trying to get the painting back since it was rightfully theirs-"

"Rightfully so. So where do they live?"

"Well, there was only one surviving relative at the time, and by the time she got the painting she was living in America, in California-"

"So we're going to California?"

"No, because soon after she got it, the relative sold it to another museum. A museum I've wanted to go to for awhile. Coincidentally. They have a great Kokoschka exhibit going on right now, actually-"

"And where," Rose was tiring of this cycle. "Where is this museum?"

"Also in America. In New York. City, in case you couldn't figure that out."

New York. They were going to New York. Rose felt her heart skip a beat and she had never found that phrase so literal before, but now she was sure, her heart actually had skipped a beat. It had hurt.

"Rose? Did you hear me? We're going to New York."

"I- Oh- Alright, I guess." She tried to compose herself. "When?"

"Well," Tandi shrugged. "I was kind of thinking we'd go now."


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** In this chapter: New York City! Rose, Tandi and Albus arrive. Also, Rose as a criminal, bottomless mimosas, the amazing Neue Galleries, and the return of Scorpius Malfoy. And his maybe-new-girlfriend.  
**Author's Note:** Sorry it took so long to post this. I was out of town for the weekend. Where I had a great time. Ate lobster and met my sister's new boyfriend (who went to university in Cheltenham, near-ish Oxford, so we had a nice bonding moment reminiscing) and reveled in getting out of the city and into nature for a brief while.  
**Another Note:** I within the past year-ish fell in love with "Degenerate Art" or the whole Neue Sachlichkeit movement. That period is amazing, especially Kokoschka (who really is the focus of a Neue Galerie exhibit right now, which I encourage any New Yorkers reading this to go see). Which is maybe why I spend a good bit of time on it.  
**And Finally:** Thank you, new reviewer. I always love getting reviews. It cheers me up and makes me think that people are reading this. I enjoy writing this immensely and just hope that at least a handful of people are being entertained by it.

**Chapter 9**

"But..." Rose stood there dumbfounded even as Tandi started racing up the stairs to her room, to pack she had said. "We couldn't possibly go tonight… It takes loads of time to get certified and get all the needed papers for international travel-"

"Rose," Tandi stopped where she stood, almost at the first landing, and craned her neck to look back at her. "I'm an Auror. Remember? I have special privileges." As Tandi started walking up, though, Rose could have sworn she heard her add: "Well, almost an Auror… Just a couple of months now…"

Well, that was reassuring. In a couple of months Tandi would _really_ have the special clearance to take them across the Atlantic. But now was not a couple of months from now. They were going tonight. Rose wondered what would happen if they tried to apparate and then hit the country's border line and then fell, splinched probably, into the Atlantic Ocean.

"Will you get up here already?" Tandi demanded from above. Rose took a deep breath and then began a slow, careful walk up to her room, hoping that by the time she got up there Tandi would have changed her mind. No such luck. "Do you have any ready-made potions? It might be useful to bring some long."

"I don't know, I can check. But, Tandi, don't you think that maybe we should wait until we know for sure that we can get to-"

"Leave our travel plans to me. You just find a bag to put all this in." Tandi had already begun making a pile on Rose's bed of all the various things she thought Rose should bring along. Among a selection of jumpers Rose was not too fond of were also some books Tandi had yanked off her shelves and a bag of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder her Uncle George had talked her into buying ages ago. Rose reached under her bed and pulled out a duffle. She didn't have a chance to put the things on the bed in it before Tandi clucked at her, "Potions? Remember?"

Rose nodded and walked over to the bathroom to check the medicine cabinet. On her way back through the too-brief hallway she looked at the open door to Tom's dark room. She wondered where he was right now. What would she say to him if he came home before they left, how would she explain the packing? Should she leave him a note telling him not to worry, that she was just going on a mini-holiday with a friend?

"Rose!" Tandi called. "We need to get going!"

Rose reentered her room.

"I was only able to find some cosmetic potions. But if you think we'll need hair smoothing elixirs and lip reddening tonics, then by all means we can bring them."

"Just put them in the bag, just in case."

Rose did so and then zipped up the bag. Then something occurred to her.

"What about Albus?"

"I figured we'd pick him up while we're in London." Tandi was already making her way down the stairs. Rose ran to keep up with her, slinging the bag over her shoulders as she went.

"Why are we going to London? I thought we were going to New York-"

Tandi gave an annoyed sigh as she reached the ground floor and turned sharply towards the entryway.

"Obviously we have to go to London first. We're traveling out of the International Floo Depot at the Ministry. Now let's go."

As they disapparated from the entryway, Tandi gripping her arm to share her clearance to arrive directly in the Ministry and not outside, Rose felt a small tinge of relief that they would not be splinched into the Atlantic. The International Floo Depot and the Ministry was for business, of course, not private travel, so she had not even considered it. But, she thought, with Tandi and Albus with her, two Aurors-in-training on a mission, surely they would qualify for business travel, even at this late notice.

"This way," Tandi tugged her as soon as the two of them appeared in the Ministry lobby. It was the middle of the night, and Rose had never seen the lobby this empty and quiet before. It looked almost eerie. She thought of stories her parents had told her about this place at night years before, of Voldemort and his Deatheaters and Sirius Black falling behind a veil. She wondered how far she was from that veil room right now, amazed to realize she had never thought about this before. And she did not think of it for long as Tandi pulled her into the lift and soon they were on their way to level six.

When the doors opened on the hallway leading to the Department of Magical Transportation, Albus was standing there waiting for them.

"I thought you'd never get here," Albus said as he instantly began walking down the hall to the door.

"Well _somebody_ was moving pretty slowly."

"This is just all happening so fast!" Rose exclaimed as she pulled her arm out of Tandi's grip. She was getting tired of being treated like an ignorant and slothful child. "I mean, maybe if you'd sprung this on me a little earlier, I'd have been slightly better prepared to just go gallivanting out of the country."

"ID?" Asked a tired looking wizard sitting at the desk outside the International Floo Depot. Both Tandi and Albus pulled out their Auror badges and showed them to the man. "And her?" He asked, pointing at Rose.

"She's with us," Albus said.

"Well I can see that, but she needs an ID. Only Ministry officials past this point-"

"No, no, I don't think you understand," Tandi began, "she's _with us_. She's in our custody."

Rose did not like this lie.

"Traveling with a prisoner via Floo?" The man did not look impressed. Instead he picked up a clipboard and quill from his desk and handed it to Tandi. "You need to fill out this form."

Tandi looked upset for the delay, but began the form anyway.

"What's your middle name?" She asked Rose without looking up from the paper.

"Cedrella."

"Ooh," Tandi winced. "That's awful."

"It's a family name-" Rose half-heartedly began.

"Date of birth?"

"17 August."

Tandi finished up the form. And handed it back to the man, who finally waved them through.

The International Floo Depot looked very similar, to Rose, to the Oxford bus station behind Gloucester Green. In front of them was a long row of brightly colored podiums, each with a uniformed officer standing beside it. Behind the podiums were walked looked like tall, square gateways leading into blackness, but Rose figured these were probably unactivated fireplaces. Tandi and Albus guided Rose – their "prisoner" – over to one of the officials in garish teal robes and pilot's cap.

"New York City, please," Tandi said to the officer. He again checked Tandi and Albus' credentials and then nodded. With a pull of a lever on the podium, green flames sprung up in the fireplace. Tandi and Albus pulled Rose into them.

"Have a nice trip," the officer said, tilting his cap at them, and then they were gone.

****

Landing in the New York branch of the United States' Department of Magic was a relief to Rose. Floo travel had always felt fast and convenient before, but perhaps that was only because she had never traveled such a far distance before. She felt like they had been spinning in transit for nearly half an hour by the time their feet came down in an archway similar to the one they'd left and another officer in matching teal robes was welcoming them to America.

After going through customs – and Rose being called a criminal again – the three of them made their way out into the streets of New York. They were, Tandi told them, in "mid-town." It was very crowded, even though it could be not much past eight in the morning, and it smelled like pee.

"The Neue doesn't open until eleven-"

"Wow, glad we rushed to get here then-"

"-so I figured," Tandi continued, ignoring her, "that we might take this time to find a place to stay. There unfortunately aren't any wizarding hotels up by the museum – most of those are downtown or out in Brooklyn – so I thought maybe we could stay in a Muggle place."

"Hotel? Stay? How long are we going to be here? I thought we just had to talk to this painting and go." Rose was in no mood to stay in New York longer than she had to. Just as she thought this a toothless man with a long beard bumped into her from behind. "Ow."

"We don't have to stay long," Tandi shrugged. "But I thought it'd be best to get a hotel room as we'll at least be here through tonight."

"Why?"

"Well, you can't exactly expect us to talk to a painting in the middle of the day, can you? No, we'll just go to the Neue this morning and examine the space so that we can return tonight when it's closed and enter without too much trouble."

So now they would be breaking and entering, too? As confident as Tandi seemed as she pulled them in the direction of the subway entrance, Rose couldn't help but feel that this plan had already gone awry.

After purchasing metrocards with the Muggle debit card Rose always kept on her in Oxford – "Wow!" exclaimed Albus as he watched her enter her pin number – the three of them scanned into the subway and began to make their way uptown.

"This thing is fun," Albus said as they stood crammed into the busy, morning rush-hour filled subway car.

"You know we have something just like this in London, don't you?"

"Do we really? I'll have to try it sometime."

At last they arrived at the stop where Tandi directed them to get off. After trying and failing to regroup and talk on the subway platform and then in the station as crowds of commuters kept jostling them – "Move, assholes!" – they finally abandoned the idea of speaking again quite yet and instead followed Tandi, who seemed to know where she was going, out onto more bustling streets. After no more than ten minutes, she led them, quite successfully to a hotel where – again using Rose's card – they booked a room. They were told they couldn't go up to it until four that afternoon and so they headed back into the streets again and soon found themselves waiting to be seated at a restaurant.

"Inside or outside?" The hostess asked them. They all agreed that the late April weather was much nicer in New York than at home and so chose to sit outside.

Once settled at their table on the sidewalk, separated from the flow of fast paced Muggles by only a thin, waist-high divider of canvas and metal poles, they opened their menus and exhaustion began to settle in. They had given up a night's sleep to come here, and even though Rose had felt herself nod off a couple of times during their trans-Atlantic travel, she was hardly well-rested.

"We should get coffee," Tandi said, likely feeling tired herself.

"No," Albus shook his head, "we should get mimosas." They both looked at him, fighting between disgust and amusement. "It's Saturday, right? And they have a brunch special. Bottomless mimosas and huevos rancheros for ten dollars." Tandi continued her death glare, but Rose was starting to bend to Albus' idea. "Or you could get a breakfast burrito instead of the huevos. Same price. Anyway that's what I'm getting."

"We have work to do-"

"Not 'til tonight, really. What's up for this morning and afternoon? Look inside a museum?"

"Do recon at a museum-"

"I'm just thinking maybe some bottomless mimosas will cheer us up."

"I agree," Rose nodded.

Albus smiled at her.

"Glad to have you onboard."

"Well I'll be sticking with coffee. Someone has to be responsible here."

Just then a waiter came over to take their orders. Just as she was requesting the bottomless mimosas it occurred to Rose that she was younger than the legal drinking age in America, but fortunately the waiter did not ask to see her ID. Within ten minutes she was sipping her first bottomless mimosa – it tasted just like fizzy orange juice and she liked the way it tickled her throat – and enjoying the fact that she was very far from home – she had never considered coming to New York before! She couldn't believe she was actually here! – when she thought she saw a familiar silver head of hair headed her way on the sidewalk.

"Oh no," Rose whispered quickly as she ducked down off her seat and stuck her head under the table. Surely he wouldn't see her if she was under here. And Albus and Tandi, who were sitting across from her, had their backs to him, so as long as she could stay hidden, no one would recognize anyone and they would not have to confront each other. She still remembered, with horror, the screaming match they'd had the last time they'd been together, and how horribly that had ended, with the insults and then, worst than the insults, the kiss. And the slap.

"What happen, you lose your napkin?" Albus asked from above her.

"Has the alcohol gone to your brain that quickly? I told you not to drink."

"No, no," Rose could feel her heart rising up in her chest. "Just… thought I saw something… I'll be up in a minute…"

She heard Tandi give a disgusted grunt.

"Hey," she heard Albus say, "that bloke who just walked past looked kind of like-" Rose slammed her fist down onto his foot, hard. "Ow! What the hell?"

"Sorry," Rose said quietly. "There was a bug on your shoe."

She stayed under the table for thirty more seconds – she counted in her head – and then rose up to her seat again. Just as she did, their food arrived.

"I wonder if the Floo travel screwed with your head," Albus pondered as he raised a forkful of huevos rancheros to his mouth. Rose just shrugged and downed the rest of her first mimosa and poured herself a second from the pitcher the waiter had put on their table. She quickly drank that one too and poured herself a third and then, finally feeling her heart rate reduce a bit, she began eating her food.

Relaxed and enjoying herself again, she ate and drank and began to have a good time. Her tiredness even began to ebb as the excitement of being in this foreign city filled her. Even Tandi, likely cheered by the coffee – she was now on her fourth cup – was beginning to seem in a good mood again. Tandi was even taking sips from her and Albus' mimosa glasses – they were now on the third pitcher… the restaurant really had meant "bottomless" – and they were all laughing and forgetting their mission when Rose heard a familiar voice.

"Potter, is that you?"

Rose saw Albus look up, behind her, and frown.

"Malfoy? What's a ponce like you doing in a city like this?"

"I live here." Malfoy took a few steps closer so that he was standing next to their table now, only the canvas border separating them. Rose wished they had requested to eat inside. "And WG," he said, noticing her but not looking at her exactly. "This some big family outing?"

"We're here on business," Tandi said curtly.

"And drinking on the job?" Malfoy motioned towards the empty mimosa pitchers.

"It's- It's brunch." Rose defended feebly. Malfoy ignored her.

"Well, this has been a pleasant run-in that I'm sure none of us want to happen again – except for you, do I know you?" he nodded towards Tandi. "Anyway, I'll just be going."

Before he could take a step though, Albus, emboldened by the alcohol perhaps, stood and grabbed Malfoy by the arm.

"What do you want Potter?"

"Apologize for what you did to my sister," Albus was glaring now. Rose watched as Albus tightened his grip.

"What I did to your sister? What did I do to your sister? I haven't talked to her in years."

"Come on, Malfoy, don't play at being dumber than you are-"

"Albus," Tandi stood, "Albus, I think you should sit down."

"I don't want to," Albus said, but he was looking wobbly on his feet, and Rose guessed that he didn't have much of a choice in the matter as Tandi began pulling him back down into his chair.

"Thanks," Malfoy nodded towards Tandi, "for keeping your boyfriend in check-"

"He's not my boyfriend-"

"Wait a second," Malfoy cut her off. "I know where I know you. Saint Mungo's. You were a patient."

"And you were a very cheeky doctor."

"Yeah." Malfoy smirked. "So you're WG's friend who was there…" He must have been thinking back to that time they were waiting in line to disapparate. At least that's what she was thinking of. "Well, that just makes one more friend of yours I've had to save-"

"You didn't 'save' me-" Tandi began, but Malfoy kept talking.

"First your brother, then the future Mrs. Albus here-" – "I am _not_ dating Albus" Tandi again muttered – "-then your very odd flatmate, which you totally did not appreciate me wasting my last night in England on-"

"Wait!" This time Tandi was loud enough to interrupt him. "You were the mediwizard who saw to Tom the night of- The night he was hurt-"

"Yeah, and some thanks I got. So, if you really don't mind, I have a busy day planned-"

"Wait!" Tandi reached over Albus and this time it was she who grabbed Malfoy's arm. "Do you still have your records, from the night you patched him up? If you kept records, I mean…"

"Of course I keep records. I'm good at my job." He looked down at their table. "Unlike people who drink while working."

"Do you think we could see them?"

"I wouldn't want his help even if he offered it to us," Albus interjected.

"Well don't worry because I'm not going to help you. I wouldn't even if I could. But I can't. Because that's illegal. Patient records are strictly confidential-"

"But he wasn't an official patient, was he? I mean, it was a home visit, and it was Rose who called you, so-"

"Rose called me for a personal favor, which she was completely ungrateful for and I never should have gone, but I'm a mediwi-" he noticed the several Muggles nearby. "But I'm a doctor and I wasn't about to turn down a person in dire need and he was in dire need. And he was a patient. Personal favor or not. And I don't share patient records."

Tandi reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her Auror ID card and flashed it at Malfoy.

"As an Auror I demand you give us those patient records."

Malfoy looked as if he wasn't sure whether to laugh at the word 'demand,' question Tandi's authority, or simply walk away. In that's moment pause while he was still deciding, Rose stood, knowing what she had to do, and hoping she could still help.

"Please, Malf- Scorpius. We really need those records. It's important." Malfoy turned to Rose for the first time since he'd come over to their table. His eyes ran over her, suspicious, but she tried to hold her gaze, tried to communicate that she was genuine in her plea and that she would not ask if it were not so important. "Please."

For a moment she thought he was still going to walk away. Then he shrugged.

"If your friend here really is an Auror demanding the records," he sounded as if he did not believe this was true, "then I suppose I have to hand them over to you."

"Great!" Tandi exclaimed, squeezing hard down on Albus' shoulder before he could object.

"Thank you," Rose said. "And, sorry-"

"I'm not doing this for you," Malfoy interrupted her. "I'd just rather not get in trouble with the government if I could avoid it." He turned back to Tandi. "I'm busy now, just on a meal break, but I'll get off tonight, around eight, if you want to come by and pick up the records."

"That would be great," Tandi nodded. "Should we meet you at your hospital-"

"No, I don't want to put my job at Lennox Hill Mediwizardry Sector at risk by associating in-hospital with a bunch of loonies," he shook his head. "How about you meet me at my flat by 83rd and 3rd at eight thirty?" He gave them specific directions, even instructing them as to how to ring the doorbell, as if none of them had ever entered a Muggle-owned building before. Did he know nothing about her at all? Her parents had lived in a Muggle-owned building all her life. But then, she wasn't sure why he would know this. In fact, if anything, she was surprised he didn't live deep within some wizarding compound. Even seeing him on the street like this, in Muggle clothes of dark gray sweater over a white t-shirt with black trousers felt very odd. She wasn't sure she'd seen him wear Muggle clothes before.

"We'll see you there," Tandi said, a friendly note in her voice as Malfoy finished his directions.

"I'll be looking forward to getting it over with," he said, and then he walked away.

Once he was gone, Tandi finally released her grip on Albus' shoulder.

"I should've thought of it before…" Tandi said to no one in particular as she took a sip of coffee. "Of course we should look at those medical records, see if anything was out of sorts that night. This could be our way of proving your Tom-isn't-the-same-Tom-as-the-killer theory, Rose."

"Yeah," Rose grumbled. She wasn't sure if it was the mimosas, the huevos, or the dread of seeing Malfoy again that evening, but her stomach was starting to hurt.

"Why didn't you say before that it was Malfoy who came to fix Tom?" Albus was glaring.

"I don't know," Rose shrugged. "I didn't think it was important-"

"Of course it's important!" Exclaimed Tandi.

"Yeah, of course it's important," echoed Albus in a very different tone. "What were you doing asking Malfoy for 'personal favors'?"

"Fav_or_, singular. And I don't know. Tom was in trouble and Malfoy's the only mediwizard I know. It all happened so fast. I wasn't thinking properly-"

"Apparently not."

"I think it's a blessing in disguise," Tandi interrupted. "That Malfoy just happened to be the doctor and that he just happened to run into us. Sure, he's a prick and all-" – "You don't know the half of it," Albus said, and Rose couldn't help but agree – "-but I bet these medical records will help us. Greatly. I just have this feeling."

"Great, another 'feeling.' That's all we need. More 'feelings.'"

"Look at the time," Tandi plowed ahead, ignoring Albus. "The museum's opening right now! We should get going!"

Paying once more with Rose's card – she realized that she was going to have a lot to explain to do to her parents when they saw all these New York charges – the three of them left the restaurant and walked less than ten blocks over to the Neue. It was not the enormous museum Rose had been picturing – images of the British Museum or even the Ashmolean had been flitting through her head – but was instead an old mansion which had been converted into the gallery. The entryway, all imposing marble with a great curving staircase directly behind the admissions desk, felt imposing and claustrophobic all at the same time. She had expected more, and now she realized this was probably because a larger space would have been easier to sneak into without being seen. Here, the space was so small that there was likely no corner unwatched by security. Also, Tandi was behaving quite embarrassingly, at one point even pulling out a tape measurer and beginning to calculate the distance from the doors to the stairs before a guard came over and asked her to put it away. Tandi complied and then all three got in line to pay for their entry. Again charging it to Rose's card. Once they'd paid their money they were handed small black aluminum clips with the museum's name emblazoned in white block letters on it. They all held the clips, confused, before Rose noticed the woman behind them fold her clip over and attach it to her shirt collar. Rose pointed this out to the others and soon all three looked the museum-going part. They stepped past the guard by the stairs – the one who'd just told off Tandi a moment before – and made their way up to where the art was.

Again, Rose was surprised not to see a museum as she knew them. Instead, she was confronted by a marble hallway off of which were a handful of dark-wood paneled rooms. No art in sight.

"Let's start in this one," Tandi said and pointed straight ahead of them. On the side wall was painted the name "Oskar Kokoschka" and underneath it was a brief biography of the artist.

The room only had about six paintings in it, hanging against walls already so ornate that they hardly stood out. Also in the room were cases containing delicately worked pieces of silver, from a necklace near the far wall to a molded vase shaped like a pumpkin in the center and several lavish little serving dishes and flamboyant spoons on the other side. Against the walls were hulking pieces of very modern looking furniture, all in clean lines. From the 1920s, Rose read on a plaque.

"It's not in here," Albus shook his head, but Tandi shushed him. She was staring at one of the paintings.

"They're really amazing, aren't they? His use of color and texture…" Her voice faded off in awed appreciation.

Rose had to admit that the paintings were stunning. They were mainly portraits, but they were like none she had ever seen before. The paint was so thick in areas and scratched off entirely in others. While the majority of the paintings were in neutral colors, soft pastels seemed to break through the backgrounds, glowing almost, and providing unique auras to each of the sitters. When she looked closer at them, she realized that it was as if the portraits captured not just these people's exteriors, but also their skeletons underneath, bursting through, making the sitters look alive and dead and decaying all at the same time. She was not sure it was entirely pleasant to look at, but it stirred something deep within her, something she had never felt when looking at art before. She felt like she might cry.

"Guys," Albus called, too loudly, and a guard shushed him. When Albus spoke again it was in a raspy whisper. "Guys, it's in here."

Tandi and Rose left the paintings they'd been viewing and followed Albus through a showy dark wood doorway and into the next room. There, against the far wall, was the painting they'd come looking for.

"Wow," Tandi said. She sounded almost breathless, and Rose understood it.

The painting was gorgeous. More than gorgeous. It was stunning. It actually stunned her.

The gold dress that the woman wore and the gold background behind her glowed as if lit somehow from within – that must be magic, Rose realized – while the hundreds of eyes that lined the center of the dress all seemed to be rising out of the painting and staring in every direction. But the outfit and the background were not what Rose found most impressive. Beyond even these was the woman herself, Adele Bloch-Bauer, with her skin so pale and pink that it looked real and about to burst forward, even as it was blocked by the gold which overlaid it everywhere. It was stunning. And it was nothing like all those photographs she'd seen of it. Now that she stood in front of it herself, real and in person, she knew that this painting was alive. There was no mistaking that.

"It's beautiful," Tandi breathed.

"Yeah," Rose nodded.

"Too bad we can't talk to her now," Albus said, there was no amazement in his voice. If anything he sounded like he was maybe starting to lag into a hangover from the morning's mimosas. "It'd be nice to get this done with."

Rose could swear, just then, that the two statues flanking the painting, two quarter-life-size kneeling guards, turned their heads just slightly, as if better focusing in on the three of them standing there.

"We're going to come back here tonight," Rose whispered, leaning into one of the statues. "To talk to her about something very important. Is that alright?"

Albus and Tandi looked at her like she was insane, and at first she thought she was, then the statue gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Rose smiled.

"Looks like we're in," she said.

"Yeah, now all we have to do is figure out how to actually _break_ in." Albus said glumly and under his breath, trying to keep the guards from hearing.

"We should keep looking around," Tandi suggested. "Maybe we'll see a way in. Maybe through there."

She pointed towards the next room, which Rose could see from here was filled with sketches and watercolors proclaiming to be by Kokoschka. Sure, she thought, this would be purely research…

The 'drawing room' did not, in fact, aid in their plans. It was, however, very interesting to look around. Rose was again struck by the fact that the drawings – just charcoal on paper – looked as if they were about to change position as soon as they turned their backs. She remembered Tandi telling her Kokoschka was a wizard and now wondered how Muggles couldn't see this when it was evidently in the liveliness of the paintings.

After 'examining' that room, they headed back out into the hall and up another marble staircase. This time they were let out into a whitewashed corridor that looked like a museum. Again, there were a collection of rooms, and Tandi – no doubt enjoying herself – suggested that they take their time in each of them. They started by looking at the paintings hung in the hall itself, all of them brightly colored and abstract – "I love Kandinsky," Tandi said to Rose as she examined a particularly interesting painting – and then moved on to a room with only a handful of paintings, but lots of furniture and a collection of old clocks and fans – "Looks like the inside of Gramp's shed where he keeps all his Muggle junk," Albus said, and Rose could not disagree – and then they made their way into a bigger room with only paintings. Some of which Rose was sure she'd seen before and others of which were completely knew and horribly bloody. If Kokoschka's living-skeleton portraits had been eerie, these graphic depictions of limbless soldiers begging on the street for money while men and women engaged in anal sex and murder in the background were just plain terrifying. Even Tandi, who was clearly enraptured by the emotion of them could not help but sneer at the horrors they depicted. Finally she looked away from the art and took a deep breath.

"I still haven't seen any way of getting back in here," Albus interrupted their silence.

"I guess we're out of options…" Tandi shook her head, but Rose stopped her.

"There was one more room, off the hall. We haven't looked in there yet." Rose had noticed it earlier when they'd walked past it, all of Tandi's attention focused on the Kandinskys and Albus simply trying to move as quickly as he could through the place. Rose led them to where she meant. It was a tiny room, white walls and carpet same as the others, but without a strong light overhead. In fact, as Rose looked around, she realized there were no electrical lights at all in the room. She wondered where what little light there was was coming from. Magic, she thought. She opened her mouth to point this out when something caught her eye. On the wall hung several small black and white photographs and she could swear that, just as she'd noticed the statue before, one of them was moving. She walked over to it. A man in wizard's robe was holding a calico cat. "Here, look."

While the man was standing perfectly still, if she watched close enough she could see the cat struggling against its holder. It did not like keeping its position, apparently. Rose smiled at the photograph and then looked underneath it to read the information plate. _Gustav Klimt_, she read, _age 43, in 1905_. When she looked back up at the photo again the cat was still, but Klimt's hands seemed to be gripping the animal tighter than before.

"I told you he was a wizard," Tandi said.

"Yeah, but…" It was true, Tandi had told her that. "Look around this room. This room is different. Can't you feel it?"

"I don't know," Albus shrugged. "Less creepy paintings make you feel better maybe?"

"No, no, look at the light," Rose watched as the other two looked around. "There's no actual light bulbs in here, or anything. It's like a lumos charm. This room is a wizarding room."

"Yeah," Tandi nodded and made a small loop around the room. "Yeah, I can feel what you mean. We can apparate into here."

"Are you sure?" Albus asked. "We're not going to get splinched trying, are we?"

"I don't think so," Rose shook her head. "I think it'll be safe."

"You _think_ my limbs will stay attached to my body, then? Well that's real comforting."

"I feel it, Albus," Rose reassured, her voice firmer this time. "We'll be able to apparate into here."

"So we're set, then." Tandi said. "We know the plan now. Go to Malfoy's, get the medical records, then come and talk to Adele. And Albus, if you don't want to come along, you can always wait at the hotel."

"No," Albus moaned. "I'll come." He seemed distinctly unhappy about this. Rose hoped it was just the hangover and lack of sleep.

They spent a little more time in the museum, walking the path from the small photography room down to where Adele hung a few times back and forth, checking for security cameras and other things they would have to evade. Rose could feel the guards watching them closely, but hoped they just chalked it up to them being odd foreigners. On their last pass by one of the guards Rose simply looked at him and said: "This is how we view museums in England." The guard looked back at her perplexed. Soon after, the three of them left.

It was finally time to be allowed into their hotel room and they were grateful for it. While the accommodations were small, they were clean, and with the two twin beds and the pull out couch there was somewhere for each of them to sleep. They all laid down to take a much needed nap and were all, even Tandi, upset when the alarm went off to wake them up. Still, they cleaned themselves up and made their way from the hotel over the few blocks to Scorpius Malfoy's building.

There was a cute looking pub – bar? restaurant? – with a white awning and seats out on the sidewalk right near to the address Malfoy had give them, right on the corner. Rose wasn't sure why she noticed it or why the place appealed to her so much, but it made her feel oddly relaxed somehow. Here was a whole restaurant full of people, sitting out and in, enjoying a pleasant Saturday evening. The world was still going on, even though she would be breaking into a museum that night, even though she would be doing her best to combat murder and evil. It was comforting to think that these people knew nothing about her or her plans or Tom.

Rose could hardly believe it when they reached Malfoy's stoop. It was not the impressive building she had expected. It was not particularly large, probably only four floors, and not fancy. There was no lobby, no doorman, only a thickly poured brown stoop and a callbox up against the door. They pushed the button labeled "2W."

"Who is it?" Came Malfoy's voice, tinny through the box.

"It's us-" Tandi began, but Rose cut her off.

"Rose." She said.

There was silence. For a moment Rose thought Malfoy had changed his mind. Then there was a sharp buzzing sound and the door made a clicking sound (Albus jumped back when it did this) and Rose was pulling the door open and letting them all inside. They walked through a narrow dirty-yellow hallway and up a flight of linoleum stairs until they were brought face-to-face with Malfoy's door. Rose was just about to knock on it when Malfoy swung the door open. She half wished she'd begun her knock half a second sooner and hit him in the face "by accident."

"Come in," Malfoy said, and he stepped aside as they filed in. "I just got home a minute ago so I haven't had time to look for the records yet. You can sit on the couch while I look for them."

He led them down another narrow hallway – fortunately not dirty-yellow, but instead clean white with hardwood floors – and into a rather large, though vacant looking living room. He pointed at the couch, a plush looking celery-green thing with attached chaise longue and they obediently sat down. He left them there as he walked back down the long hall, past the entrance and into another, unseen from here, room.

So… This was Scorpius Malfoy's apartment. It was very dull. Besides the couch, a crammed-full bookshelf, and scattered piles of medical journals and newspapers, and another plain doorway leading to another room, there wasn't much to look at. Rose idly picked up a nearby newspaper and flipped it to the front page. It was the Daily Prophet, she was glad to see. She scanned through the stories to see if there was anything she hadn't already heard of. Next to her, Tandi did the same, picking a newspaper off a pile – the New York Times – and unfolding it to scan through the headlines. Albus sat straight up, obviously trying very hard not to touch or look at anything. His mood had improved since his nap, but he still didn't like Malfoy, Rose knew.

They sat there like that in silence for about fifteen minutes, occasionally hearing bumps and thuds as Malfoy searched the unseen room. Suddenly, there was a loud ringing sound echoing. Rose, recognizing the sound from her parents' flat, knew that someone was trying to buzz up into the apartment. Albus, not knowing this, had nearly jumped to the ceiling.

"What's going on?" Albus asked frantically as Rose simply stood and walked back towards the door, perhaps on instinct. She got there at the same time as Scorpius.

"What are you doing?" Malfoy asked her and she noticed she'd been reaching towards the button on the callbox. She lowered her hand. Malfoy pushed the button and spoke into the box. "Who is it?"

"It's me," came a distinctly female voice. Then it giggled.

"Fuck," Malfoy muttered, and then he pushed another button, which Rose knew must open the door downstairs.

"Have company, Malfoy? Are we interrupting your night?"

"Yes you bloody well are," he said. And then he opened the door. Coming up the stairs towards them was a beautiful woman in a very short and very tight black dress with a bottle of wine and a ridiculously small purse in her hands. She was tall and thin with perfectly controlled golden brown ringlets which fell around her shoulders. She smiled with her deep red lips as she approached.

"Scorpy," she said as she embraced him, kissing the air just above each of his cheeks. "Ready to go?"

"No, not yet," he said, shaking his head. "I have… other people… who've stopped by. Coworkers. I just have to handle this first. Shouldn't take long."

The woman turned her head and quickly surveyed Rose. She pursed her lips, as if she didn't particularly like what she was seeing, but as if it was not something altogether horrible at the same time, as if Rose were something akin to a bug bite that had only just started itching a little. Rose, not knowing what else to do, stuck out her hand.

"Rose," she said. She waited for the woman to shake her hand, but she didn't.

"Julia," the woman said, and then pushed past her, walking towards the living room. Then, calling back to Malfoy, she said. "I've brought a bottle of wine. I figured you'd make me- Ah!" She had reached Albus and Tandi.

Rose looked at Scorpius who did not look happy as he followed Julia into the living room.

"Ah, yes," Malfoy said, staring at the floor and giving an annoyed sigh. "This is Albus and, er… I don't know her name."

"Tandi," Tandi filled in. Rose was happy to see that neither she nor Albus had offered their hands to Julia. She had been foolish to do that.

"Albus," Julia looked at him, then turned her head from one side to the other. "You look familiar… Have we met before? Do you summer in France?"

"Ah, no," Albus said dryly.

"His father's Harry Potter," Malfoy informed her, and then added, under his breath, "and he'll never let you forget it."

"Harry Potter!" Julia smiled wide all of a sudden, now quite interested in them. "Really, well, that is just amazing. When Scorpy told me he went to Hogwarts I asked him if he'd ever met Harry Potter-"

"I haven't." Malfoy said.

"Did he tell you the he dated my sister for awhile?" Albus asked. "Harry Potter's daughter? And he really fucked her over."

"Literally," Malfoy added, quietly but loud enough to be heard. Rose saw Albus' eyes grow wide and a snarl form at his lips, but Tandi grabbed him at the last second and held him back.

"No, he hadn't told me that…" Julia said. There was an awkward silence. "So, I brought this wine for us, but I don't mind sharing it with Albus Potter. And his friends." She made a visible effort to smile weakly at Rose and Tandi.

"Sure, sure, whatever, you know where the bottle opener is," Malfoy said, already retreating towards the door. "I've got to find some paperwork before we can go. Hope you don't mind too-"

"No," Julia interrupted. "I don't mind at all. Come on, Albus, you can help me with the wine while you tell me all about your father."

Malfoy disappeared again as Julia literally pulled Albus by the collar into the adjacent kitchen – so that was what was through that door, Rose thought – and left Rose and Tandi in the living room.

"Seems we're interrupting his date," Tandi said in a tone that signified she did not really care if she was ruining Malfoy's date. "Oh well."

Rose sat back down on the couch and once more picked up the Prophet. Minutes later, Julia reentered with Albus, both of them holding glasses of wine. Albus handed a glass each to Rose and Tandi.

"Is that the Daily Prophet you're reading?" Julia asked, sipping her wine as she did. "I've told Scorpy he should unsubscribe. The New York wizarding papers, especially the Cauldron Chronicle where my daddy is an editor, are much better. The Daily Prophet is just a big gossip column half the time. I mean, really." She took another sip of her wine.

Well, Rose thought, as far as snobbery and superiority were concerned, Julia was a perfect match for 'Scorpy.' Rose took a sip of the wine in her hand. It was good, she had to admit. And she liked the fact that Julia had probably spent a lot of money on it and now it was being wasted by others than her and 'Scorpy.' She couldn't get over that nickname.

"So," Rose finally began, breaking the recent silence, "how did you and Scorpy meet?" She heard Albus snicker.

"Just out one night. At Butter. Do you know 'Butter'? It's a very important club here. And I took one look at him and I thought 'He must be somebody special.' And he is."

"Oh, yeah…" Albus rolled his eyes.

"Hmm…" Julia pursed her lips at the same time as she sat down, very close, next to Albus. "Somebody should probably bring Scorpy this wine I poured for him."

"I'll do it," Rose said, regretting it almost exactly as she said it, standing. She poured her own glass of wine down her throat, for confidence, swallowing it all before taking the extra glass from Julia's hand. "I can ask him what's taking so long and then we can be out of your hair."

"Alright," Julia relinquished the wine and then turned back to Albus, petting him seductively on the shoulder. "So… Tell me about your father… I bet my daddy would love to do a story on you…"

Rose walked down the hall the way she'd come before until she was faced with a shut door. She thought about knocking on it, but then decided against it, and with her free hand, she pushed the door open. The room was a mess. That was her first thought.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer: **Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** In this chapter, the visit to New York continues. Rose spends time in Malfoy's room, Adele Bloch-Bauer speaks (in German), Scorpius and Albus in a fist fight, and, finally, Rose confronts Tom. Sort of.  
**Author's Note:** Gettin' serious now. Also, I don't speak German. So I apologize to anyone who does.  
**Another Note:** If the song "Wake Up" was the theme of a few chapters back, then the Wailin' Jennys' cover of "Parting Glass" is the theme of the upcoming chapters.  
**And:** Again, reviews are good (when they're actual reviews and not shameless plugs) and so I encourage anyone who wants to, to review. Because that helps me.  
**Finally: **The next chapter may not be up for a couple days. But it may be up sooner. I'm not exactly sure. So... keep checking?

**Chapter 10**

The room was a mess. That was her first thought. There were three big filing cabinets up against the side wall and all the drawers were open. There were papers and folders everywhere, practically covering the entire floor. There was an unmade bed, also covered in papers, on which Scorpius Malfoy was sitting. Her second thought was that perhaps she should not have come in here.

"I-" She began feebly, holding out the glass of wine she'd brought. "This is from Julia." Scorpius looked up from where he sat, a folder open in his hands, his thumb still turning from one page to another even as his eyes met hers. At first his face looked blank, but then she felt him register her appearance and his brows creased and he bit his cheek so that he suddenly looked very upset. Then he looked back down at the folder. "Wow… So… This is where you sleep?"

"Don't judge me."

"I wasn't judging. I was merely observing. This is where you sleep."

"It's not always this messy."

"I'm sure."

"It's not. It's- It's your bloody paperwork I'm looking for so it's your fault my room's a mess so really if anyone should be judged here it's you."

Silence. Rose took a step further into the room. She was suddenly feeling vaguely amused.

"Uh-huh," she nodded. She remembered Malfoy's face as he'd gone through her room, picking it apart, trespassing though she'd never invited him in. This was her chance for revenge. Careful not to spill the wine, she bent down and picked up a folder-

"That's private."

She dropped the folder. She took a step further into the room. On the wall across from the file cabinets a few framed photos hung. She walked up to them and put her nose almost against them as she watched their occupants move about. One photo was of Scorpius, much younger, with his parents behind him. They all had sour expressions on their faces.

"I can see the family resemblance," Rose taunted. The man behind Scorpius was his father she supposed, she had not seen him since her first year, since that time on Platform 9 ¾. He looked just as he had that day, clad in heavy black robes which made his pale face and hair all the more jarring. He looked a bit narrower, perhaps his chin and nose a bit sharper, than Scorpius, but it was obvious that the two were closely related. They both had the same smirk, the same way of narrowing their eyes.

"Don't look at my pictures."

"Why not? You looked at mine."

"Yeah, but then you slapped me. So you lost your looking privileges."

She blushed to remember that slap, and the kiss that had led up to it, but then she resolved to stay steady. Her back still to Malfoy, she shifted her gaze to the next photo as she took a sip of wine.

"I thought you said that was my wine." She heard him rise from the bed.

"You didn't seem to want it."

"Yeah, well, I do." He was right behind her now. She could feel his breath on her neck and feel the weight of his chest so close to her back. He reached an arm around her and took hold of the wine glass, his fingers wrapping around hers as he grasped it. She felt him lean in, a little closer, his mouth just above her ear now. "My girlfriend brought me this wine. Not you."

Rose released her grip on the glass, untangling her fingers and side stepping to the right. She looked at the picture in front of her now. It was of a tiny blond child in too-long white, frilly robes pulling his head away and frowning as his mother tried desperately to comb his hair.

"Is this you?" She pointed at the photo.

"Yeah. I was handsome even then."

"You look like a girl."

"As I'm doing you and your friends a huge favor right now I'd think you'd want to be nicer to me-"

"A huge favor?" She laughed and turned her head to face his profile. "I thought you said you were only doing this because you didn't want to get in trouble with the government-"

"That's true. But I don't have to be ripping apart my room, finding those medical records when I should be on a date-"

"You're the one who told us when to come over-"

"I forgot about my plans with Julia. For one second. Anyway, I would've called to cancel when I realized my mistake, except I had no idea where you were staying and no way of contacting you so I just decided to be nice and let it slide."

"Well, then…" Rose took a step backwards. "I'll just get out of your hair then. Let you continue the great room-shredding hunt. Wouldn't want you to miss out on a fantastic evening with that prize catch Julia."

"Wait." With his free hand, Malfoy reached out and grabbed her hand. "As long as you're here, you may as well help me look-"

"I thought your files were private-"

"They are. I'll just erase your memory if you stumble on to anything really secret."

"As appealing as that sounds, I think I'll just go back to the living room." She once more separated her hand from his. "Best get back there before your girlfriend forces herself on Albus." Rose took another step towards the door, then stopped and turned around. "You know, she really is awful. I've only known her five minutes and I can already see that she's only into money and family names-"

"And good looks," Malfoy added. "That's why she likes me."

Rose saw the smirk spreading across Malfoy's face.

"You think an awful lot of yourself-"

"Well when your family's lost all its money and credibility you have to rely on pure talent and beauty to get anywhere in life." He paused. "Not that you'd know that."

"Let's not get into this 'family' fight again-"

"Alright. Let's not." Malfoy took a big drink of wine and then went back over to his bed and picked up a new folder. "I'm just saying you've never had to try in your life-"

"Excuse me?"

"What? Going to argue with me? Going to pretend being a Weasley-Granger didn't open every single door for you?"

"It didn't open Oxford for me." And this was true. This was one of the reasons Rose had fallen so deeply in love with Oxford. "No one at my college has ever heard of my mum or dad before. I'm there and I succeed there entirely on my own merits."

She could tell Malfoy was considering this.

"Still…" She could tell he was searching for something to say. And she figured it would be something nasty. "That's only in the Muggle world-"

"If you haven't noticed, you're practically living in the Muggle world yourself-"

"Only my apartment-"

"Still."

"Still." He nodded his head solemnly. He paused. "So that's why you went to Muggle university? To get away from your _great family legacy_?"

"I mean- That's part of it. Yeah."

There was another long pause. She half expected Malfoy to smile, to jump up and apologize for all the awful things he'd said about her. But he did not.

"Huh," was all he said, finally.

Rose grasped the doorknob, now finally fed up with this, when she stopped once more, wanting to take out her frustration on Malfoy, which made sense since he had frustrated her.

"Could you just please hurry up? We have big plans too and we need to get going."

And then Rose left the room and made her way back down the hall.

Julia was chatting away, practically sitting on Albus' lap. Her cousin did not look happy. Tandi, meanwhile, had moved to the far end of the couch and was so engrossed – or was trying to appear so – in the New York Times that she acted as if she could not hear Julia's mindless prattle. She lowered her paper when Rose sat down next to her.

"You've been gone for awhile."

"Have I? I just asked him to hurry it up."

"Good." Tandi nodded towards Albus who was now making a sad, whiny sound. "I don't know how much longer he can take of this."

Tandi then retreated back behind her paper, so Rose found the Daily Prophet where she'd left it on the floor, and even though she'd already scanned most of the stories already, she started reading it again.

About fifteen minutes later, footsteps approached.

"Found it," Malfoy said, waving a folder as he entered the room. "And now we can all, thankfully, get on with our night."

"Thank you so much," Tandi said. She stood and reached for the folder, but just as she almost had it, Malfoy pulled it away.

"Sooo," Malfoy stretched out the syllable. "What are your plans for tonight?"

"Are you going to invite Albus Potter to come out with us?" Julia asked giddily. Albus groaned.

"No," Malfoy said firmly, then turned back to Tandi. "I just wondered what you all had planned for your New York visit."

"Nothing much…" Tandi began. "Maybe get some dinner? Nothing exciting…"

"Really?" Malfoy smirked. "Because Rose said you had big plans."

"I was lying," Rose said suddenly as she stood. What would Malfoy do if they told him they were breaking into a museum?

"Yeah, I don't believe that," Malfoy shook his head. "Also, taking a look at these records, I remembered just how odd they were. So I think you all are up to something-"

"It's official Auror business," Tandi interjected. "Aurors only."

"Rose isn't an Auror," Malfoy pointed out.

"Yeah, but… I'm special." Rose grabbed at the folder, but Malfoy pulled it away again. "Malfoy just give us the folder-"

"Nope."

"Come on!"

"Say please?"

"Please!" Tandi and Rose chorused.

"I didn't hear Albus…"

Rose looked at Albus pleadingly. He probably felt he'd done more than his part entertaining Julia.

"Please," Albus finally sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Hmm…" Malfoy shook his head. "No. Still don't feel like sharing this very important, and private I might add, information with you. Maybe if you tell me what you're up to."

"You really want to know?" Tandi asked.

"Yep."

"Alright, come here." Tandi motioned with her hand that Malfoy should step closer. He did. As soon as he was close enough, Tandi smacked him in the back of his head. Stunned, he dropped the folder, which Rose swooped down and picked up. "Don't mess with Aurors."

"Ow! That really bloody hurt!"

"But it was so much fun to watch," Albus smiled for the first time since he'd been there. "Alright, let's get going."

"You know, you're going to need a mediwizard to explain those charts to you," Malfoy called after them just as they were almost to the door. "And good luck trying to explain to them why those records are so off."

"Wait," Tandi turned around. "What do you mean 'off'?"

"I'm not going to tell you! You just hit me!"

"Malfoy, please-" Rose began, but Malfoy cut her off.

"And you can quit making doe eyes at me, WG, I'm not falling for it." Had she been making 'doe eyes' at him? "You're screwed now."

"Please, it's very important that we understand these records-"

"Fine, I'll explain them to you-"

"Really?" That had been easy, Rose thought.

"I'll explain them to you _if_ you tell me what you're up to. _And_ you let me come along."

"No." Albus said quickly, then he caught Tandi's eye. "What? He can't come with us. He's an awful git!"

"If it's our only way…" Tandi started. "But your girlfriend can't come."

"Fine," Malfoy nodded. Julia, who was hanging back on the periphery of all of this frowned.

"Scorpy-"

"Sorry, babe." Malfoy did not sound like he meant it.

"Take my arm," Tandi said, then looked between Albus and Rose. "Come on, you two."

One second Rose heard Julia squealing to be included and the next everything was silent. They were in the dimly lit, cramped room at the Neue.

Malfoy let go of Tandi's arm and looked around.

"Where are we? Why are half these photographs not moving?"

"Because half them are Muggles," Tandi said simply.

"I really would've preferred it if you'd answered my first question."

"We're at a museum." Rose filled in. "We need to talk to a painting."

"Ah. So we just broke into a museum then? Alright. I'm going home."

"No," Rose reached out and grabbed his arm before he could disapparate. "We still need your help with the charts. And… you wanted to know what was going on? Well, this will tell you what's going on."

"Come on," Tandi said, peaking around the corner. "That camera will be pointed over there for the next thirty seconds, so we should get to the stairs now."

Not letting go of Malfoy's sleeve, Rose pulled the reluctant man out into the hallway after Tandi and Albus and the four of them made their way down the marble stairs.

"Rose, do you have the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder?"

"Yeah," Rose handed the small pouch of the black powder up to Tandi.

"This should give us about ten seconds cover, just enough to make it into that room there," Tandi pointed to the room that held Adele. "Once we're in there, we should be alright. I didn't see any cameras in there at least."

"Oh, great, you think…"

"Shut it, Malfoy. No one asked you to come." Rose pinched his arm.

"Ow!"

"Enough!" Tandi whispered. "We're going… now."

And everything went black before them. Rose knew exactly where she was headed and even still she found it difficult to navigate through the all-encompassing dark. It was strange, she thought, because it had been dark a moment before, it being night time and the lights being off, but now it was darker than she had ever imagined. Darker than when she had her eyes squeezed shut.

They had all just barely made it into the proper room when the dark cloud lifted and they could see again.

"Wow…" Rose heard Malfoy behind her. She turned to look at him and saw he was gazing at Adele, just as she had done earlier.

"I know." Rose answered him. Then she noticed she was still holding onto his arm, so she let go.

Suddenly, Adele moved. Her two hands, already clasped together, folded closer to each other and she tilted them down, towards them. It was a greeting, Rose realized. Rose smiled at the woman and watched as the woman's red lips opened.

"Hallo, Wie geht es Ihnen?"

"Excuse me?" Albus asked.

The woman merely smiled back at him.

"Ich sah Sie vorher."

"Erm…" Tandi looked over at Rose, confused.

"Oh, come on, it's German. She's speaking German." Malfoy finally said.

"Well I knew that," huffed Tandi. "But knowing what she's speaking doesn't get us any closer to knowing what she's saying, does it?"

"The statues," Rose said, and for the first time since they'd entered the room that night, she walked over to the small, kneeling statues. She looked one of them in its tiny little face. It didn't have ears, or a nose, or a mouth, but she remembered how it had nodded at her earlier and she knew this would work. "Could you please translate for us?"

The statue nodded. Then, it pushed down on its hands and lifted itself into a standing position. It's twin on the other side of Adele did the same.

"Thank you very much." Rose told the statue.

"Danke sehr viel," said the statue.

"No," Rose shook her head, "I wasn't telling you to translate that, I was just thanking you for translating." But already Adele was nodding, thinking she had been thanked.

"Sie sind willkommen," Adele said. And then she unclasped her hands and rolled her shoulders, stretching. The eyes on her dress blinked. Then there came a flow of German. Towards the end of it, Adele nodded her head towards another Klimt painting in the room, of a naked woman.

"I get so tired," the statue on the other side of the painting said, speaking in a tiny voice fitting of its size. "Holding the same position all day for Muggles. I was so happy when you came by earlier and I've been hoping all day that you would return. No one ever talks to me." The statue gave the same head nod. "Except for her, and she's far too silly to talk to for long."

"Well, good, we're glad you want to talk to us," before Rose could finish the statue on the left began translating her words into German. "We have some very important questions to ask you."

Adele spoke and then the right side statue said: "Yes?"

"Well, we wanted to know if you remembered your time with Hepzibah Smith?"

After the usual translating circle came: "Refresh my memory?"

Rose was at a loss. She knew nothing about Hepzibah except that she had once owned this painting.

"A large woman," Tandi stepped forward, filling in. "She was very old when you knew her. In 1945."

"Ah yes," the right state said after listening to Adele. "That was in England, wasn't it? That was a very sad time for me. I did not want to be there. What do you want to know about my stay in that awful woman's house?"

"Actually, if you could tell us about Hepzibah's death, if you remember it."

"Yes," Adele had nodded when she'd said this and so the statue nodded as it translated. "I do remember. There was a very pretty boy who used to come around, selling things. And one day he came, just as any other, only then his eyes turned an unbecoming color and he killed her with his wand and he wasn't so pretty anymore. I was shocked. When the authorities came round they took me off the wall and shipped me back to Austria without even asking me if I'd seen anything. I suppose they arrested that boy, then. I was not happy going back to Austria. It was not as nice as when I'd left it. Something very bad was going on-"

"Yes," Tandi said, interrupting the right statue. "But if we could just get back to the murder you witnessed. When he did it, there was a necklace there, right? Do you remember that necklace?"

"I've seen a lot of necklaces," the right statue translated. "But none of them are as beautiful as my own." Adele turned this way and that, lifting her head and pointing her neck forward so they could all have a better look at the elaborate thick silver jeweled collar she wore. The statue similarly showed off its neck, though it had no necklace to boast of. "Don't you think my necklace is the most divine thing you've ever seen?"

"It's pretty-" Tandi began.

"More than _pretty_-" Adele and the statue spit at them and both slumped their shoulders a little.

"It's beautiful," Malfoy said stepping forward. "Exquisite piece of work."

"Danke." Adele smiled again. She batted her eyes at Malfoy and all the eyes on her dress winked as well. "Er ist sehr hübsch."

Rose heard Albus gag as the right statue gave them the translation.

"Anyway," Rose said, trying to get this back on track. "The necklace we were talking about, the one Hepzibah owned, it was nowhere near as lovely as yours, but, if you remembered anything about it that would be very helpful."

"Go ahead, describe this necklace."

"Well," Rose thought of the picture in the book she'd found. "It was a locket. An oval, but kind of squarish. Silver. And there was a big green 'S' on the front of it. And when it opened, it might have glowed red."

"Hmm…" The right statue again echoed Adele's motions, putting its hand underneath its chin and sucking in its cheeks in a thinking pose. "I think I know what you mean. It was a very plain and forgettable necklace. But I remember the red glow. It only happened once. Right after that fat woman died. It was very memorable."

"Really?"

"Yes, it felt very hot, and I was worried I would burn. But fortunately I did not."

"Do you remember anything else? About the necklace or what happened when Hepzibah was killed?"

"Yes. The pretty boy, the one who killed her. He was not so pretty after the murder was done. And while the locket was open, while it was glowing, it seemed as if some part of the boy were being sucked into it. As if he turned wispy and all his air were being swallowed up by the necklace. And when the glow was done and the locket was shut, the boy looked different. He scared me then so I stayed still. But he wasn't noticing me – even though he'd told me before how beautiful I am – anymore. He simply took the necklace and left. And soon I was put in a big box and sent away."

So that was how the horcrux had been made. He had given up a part of himself and put it into the locket. And perhaps that same part had gone from the locket into Uncle Harry, and from there into Tom. It made sense, to her, when she thought about it, that if death could create a horcrux surely conception could as well.

"And his eyes, you said, they turned 'unbecoming'?" Rose thought of Tom's eyes the night she'd found him bleeding in the living room, of how they had been different, and he had not looked like himself.

"They turned dark and became clouded."

Just as Tom's eyes had done.

"Thank you, Adele, Ms. Bloch-Bauer. Thank you very much for sharing all that with us."

Adele gave a gracious nod of her head.

"I enjoy being given the chance to talk. It can be so lonely here." She paused. The right statue waited on her words. "You don't happen to know, do you, what happened to my husband?"

"No," Rose shook her head. She turned to Tandi. Tandi was frowning. Rose was sure Tandi did know what had happened to Adele's husband, and that it had not been pleasant, so she did not ask the girl to push the subject. "I'm sorry we can't be of more help."

"That's alright." Adele said. The sad look she had worn during the day returned to her face as her lips parted and her eyebrows arched up and she sighed.

"Thanks again, really."

"It was a pleasure." She looked around at each of them before her eyes, and the right statue's, landed on Malfoy. "And you are welcome to return anytime." Again she winked at him.

Rose turned to look at Malfoy. He was smiling flirtatiously back at the painting.

"Well," Rose said, interrupting their moment. "We should probably get back to the hotel and Malfoy can explain these medical records to us."

"I agree," Tandi said. And in seconds another cloud of darkness enveloped them and they were making their way back up to the tiny photograph room. When they were there, just before they apparated away – Tandi grabbing Malfoy's arm to ensure he came with them – Rose was sure she caught Klimt in his wizard robes, his cat now wandering free around the photo, wave at her and smile. She smiled and waved back, then turned herself inside out, and was back in their hotel room.

****

Though they were all tired, Tandi insisted that they should stay away and solve the problem of the medical charts now. To cheer them up a little she left the room in search of sodas, sure that she had heard of a vending machine a few floors below them. Albus, wanting to know what a vending machine was and not wanting to be stuck in such a confined space with Malfoy, joined her.

In the room, Rose sat herself on the couch – now folded back up and no longer a bed – with the folder Malfoy had given them laid out on the coffee table in front of her. Malfoy was standing in the center of the room, curiously using the remote control to flick through stations on the television at a record pace.

"I don't see why Muggles like this thing," he said as he continued to change the channels.

"Maybe that's because you're doing it wrong," Rose suggested, not looking up from the papers in front of her. It was true, none of them made any sense. They were all too full of boxes and checks and numbers and Malfoy's cramped cursive. "Are you sure these are actual medical records?"

"Let me think… Yes. I'm sure. It's what I do for a living."

"Fine," Rose shrugged. "If you say so."

Malfoy hit the big red button on the remote and the room fell, blissfully, quiet. He walked over to Rose and sat down beside her.

"See," he pointed at a collection of numbers on the paper. "This is all his vital information when I found him. All his readings. Heart rate, magic radiation, all that." He pointed to where the numbers continued. "And these are how his readings were later." He moved his finger lower. "And later."

Rose looked at the numbers. They were not consistent, but instead were jumping in every which direction.

"Is this normal," she asked, "to have a radiation go from three hundred and twelve to forty to sixty five to two?"

"No," Malfoy shook his head. "It is not normal. Not at all."

"Ah."

"Yes. 'Ah.'" He paused. "Are you ready to tell me what's going on yet? Why we broke into an art museum? Why we asked a painting about a necklace? And why your flatmate's medical charts are the strangest I've ever seen and like nothing I've ever heard of?"

Rose turned her head so that she was looking at Malfoy's profile. Then he turned his head so he was facing her. His eyes were silver and there were purple bags underneath them. She wondered, suddenly, how long he had been awake. It was not uncommon, she knew, for training mediwizards to work for forty eight hours straight. She wondered how long he had been working before they'd showed up at his apartment.

"Are you tired?"

"That doesn't answer any of my questions."

"You look tired."

"So do you."

She hadn't thought of that. She probably had her own big purple bags under her eyes. Her eyes themselves were probably red by now. Except for that short nap this afternoon she had not slept since Thursday night. And it was just now very early Sunday morning.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy-"

"For what? Ruining my Saturday night or tricking me into a life of crime?"

"For the fight we had. Last time. I- It was very nice of you to come over and to help out my flatmate with no questions asked, and I really didn't thank you properly, and I should have. So, thank you. It was very kind of you. You're- You're a really good person."

He looked at her and for a second she wondered if he was going to spit in her eye. Then he dropped his head and let his eyes return to the paperwork in front of them. So much for apologizing.

They heard the door open and then Tandi and Albus were stepping into the room, each of them holding generous armfuls of soda cans.

"We got everything they had," Tandi said as she rolled the sodas from her arms to the table. Albus quickly did the same.

"Odd machine, that." Albus said, shaking his head. "Did you know Muggles have to keep it constantly stocked in order to get any soda out of it? Isn't that bizarre?"

Rose laughed, grabbed a can of diet cola, and popped it open, and took a deep drink, the bubbles burning her throat and waking her up as she swallowed.

"Malfoy was just trying to explain these charts to me," Rose pointed down at the paperwork. "He says these are the weirdest charts he's ever seen."

"Really?" Tandi knelt down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. "How so?"

"Well…" Malfoy thumbed through the pages again. Then he pointed out the off numbers he'd shown Rose earlier, and a few other examples that also stuck out as strange. "It's like," he concluded, "this guy were two people."

"Two people?" Albus asked. "You mean Rose was right?"

"I don't know about that since I don't know what Rose said, but yeah, two people. All the readings, the way they jump. He even had two different blood types, one when I arrived and a completely different one when I left. I thought it was strange at the time, but I didn't want to say anything. I thought maybe he was just Metamorphmagus. I'd never worked on one of those before. But then I started reading up on the subject and realized he wasn't. He's… something I've never seen before nor read about. It'd make a really interesting case study, though-"

"No," Rose interrupted. "Tom isn't a case study."

Malfoy shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

"But he is two people… in theory." Tandi pulled the paperwork closer to herself and examined it. "That would explain the trace results-"

"You put a trace on him?" Malfoy cut in. "You really must not trust this guy then."

"No, I don't, not at all." Albus said.

"You shouldn't say that," Rose interjected. "You don't even know him-"

"He's my brother, isn't he? So I know him alright, don't I?"

Everyone was silent for a moment. For just a second Rose ached to tell Albus that Tom was her brother too, but then the feeling passed, and she was glad she'd said nothing.

"He did look a lot like Harry Potter…" Malfoy finally broke the quiet.

"So," Tandi ignored him. "If Tom is 'two people,' or has this other person inside of him, what are we going to do about it?"

"Yeah, on that subject…" Malfoy's interruptions were becoming even more annoying. "Who's the second person. I mean, what that painting was saying, about some boy and how he put part of himself into that locket, I'm guessing that means you think that locket somehow put itself into Tom, but… Who was that boy? What are we dealing with here?"

"Well _you_," Albus stressed the 'you,' "are not dealing with anything as _you _are not involved in this-"

"A bit late for me not to be involved isn't it-"

"One obliviate charm and you won't have any idea-"

"Enough!" Rose cried. "Enough. We should tell him the truth." Her friends looked at her, surprised. Even Malfoy was looking at her surprised. "Well, we should. I've had at least one obliviate charm done on me in my life and I don't want that to happen to anyone else, so I'd rather Malfoy know the whole story than just these bits and pieces out of which he could construe something much more horrible-"

"Can you get much more horrible than Voldemort?" Albus asked dryly.

"Voldemort?" Malfoy repeated. "As in _the_ Voldemort. As in almost destroyed the world, few years back? As in, Albus' dad supposedly killed him and has been mopping up the fame ever since? As in-"

"Yes." Rose said calmly. "As in. He was the boy Adele, the painting, was talking about. And that locket became a horcrux-"

"Like the candy?"

"Like the dark magic. And that dark magic somehow made it so that the piece of Voldemort transferred from the locket into Harry Potter and then passed into Tom."

Malfoy took a few seconds to digest this information.

"So… Voldemort is back?"

"Your family would love that, wouldn't they-" Albus began, but before he could finish, Malfoy was lunging off the couch and towards Albus. Before Tandi or Rose could stop it, the two boys were wrestling each other on the floor.

"Take it back! Take it back!" Malfoy was screaming as he tried to land punches, but Albus was fighting back just as hard.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Tandi shouted twice, pointing her wand first at Malfoy and then at Albus.

Both boys lay frozen on the floor, seething looks upon their faces.

"I will only unfreeze you if you _promise_ you will put all these _petty_ _differences_ behind you and we can move forward _peacefully_ from now on." Tandi said, moving her wand between the two. Rose didn't know how Tandi expected them to agree to this as neither was even capable of so much as a blink right now. Still, Tandi waited until she saw something she must have taken for consent and then she unfroze them. They sat up. "Now, can we behave like adults?"

"Yes." Albus muttered.

"Whatever." Malfoy added, but when Tandi pointed her wand at him again he gave an annoyed sigh. "Fine. Yes. No more punching."

"Good. Now. This problem with Tom. Yes, it seems that a part of Voldemort is living inside of him."

"But it's been dormant for awhile," Rose pointed out. "I mean, it's only just recently that it's been coming out more."

"Oh, well then, it's only just recently that he'll kill us all?" Malfoy said sarcastically as he took his seat back up on the couch.

"Moving forward," Tandi stressed again. "It seems that most recently his goal has been to attack the Minister of Magic-" a look of surprise lit up Malfoy's face "-though, thankfully he has not succeeded. Nor will he if we can come up with a proper plan of action. Rose, for whatever reason, doesn't want us to simply arrest Tom-"

"Because she's a nutter?" Malfoy suggested. Rose could see that Albus had to hold his tongue to keep from agreeing with Malfoy.

"Manners." Tandi snapped.

"I don't want to arrest him because he's not a bad guy," Rose began. "He's really not. He's stuck. In this very shitty position. Which he didn't ask for. He's not like Voldemort. He didn't try to sever his soul from his body and all that. He just had, by no fault of his own, a piece of Voldemort born into him. And he's been fighting it for years now. He doesn't like it. He doesn't even really know what's happening to him. He just wants to stop it. He wants to stop it as much as we do."

All faces turned towards her. They were looking at her like she really was a nut. But Rose knew, she felt, that everything she'd just said was absolutely true. And suddenly, something that had never occurred to her before, something that should perhaps have occurred to her ages ago, finally did.

"We have to confront him. We have to tell him what we know and we have to tell him that we'll do anything to help him."

"Rose, that's very noble, but…" Tandi sighed. "You told us that the last time you confronted him, after the first attack he made on Shacklebolt, that he just went kind of crazy and then ended up calling his father and crying, and then forgetting the whole mess anyway."

"Yeah," Rose nodded. "I know, but, I think, I just know, that if we confront him he'll come round. He'll see our side. We just have to keep him from talking to his father. His father-" she knew this all of a sudden "-is the one who keeps erasing his memory."

"Now when we say father," Malfoy raised his hand like a young school child, "we do mean Harry Potter right?"

"Adoptive father," Rose corrected. "A horrid man." She didn't know why she thought he was horrid, she'd barely seen him, but she did think this, very strongly, right now. "Confronting Tom is the only way we're going to be able to stop his next attack."

"You're sure about this?" Tandi was looking at her with very serious eyes. She was believing her. Good.

"Yes," Rose nodded. "Yes I do."

"Well then…" Albus began.

"Fuck." Malfoy finished.

"Yes," Albus nodded surprised to be agreeing. "My thoughts exactly."

****

Rose, Tandi, and Albus left New York Sunday morning, and when they arrived back in London after a dizzying Floo trip, it was already Sunday afternoon. Rose just wanted to go home and go to sleep and was thrilled to discover that Tom was not there when she arrived. Sure, she would have to confront him soon, she would, but couldn't she at least get some rest in before that?

As she lay down to sleep, images of Scorpius Malfoy kept flitting through her mind. Of the past two days, of him on the street not looking at her, of him tangling his fingers around hers on the wine glass stem, of him flirting with the painting, of him awkwardly shaking her hand goodbye as he'd dropped them off at the New York International Floo Depot. And then she thought of herself apologizing to him, and his non-acknowledgment of the apology. And then she thought of Malfoy and his girlfriend, the glamorous Amazon Julia, at Butter on the busy Saturday night which Malfoy had given up so that he could be unwittingly pulled into a plot to save the world. Thinking of all this, she fell asleep.

The next thing Rose knew, her alarm was going off. It was Monday morning. And she would be late for her tutorial if she didn't get going right now.

She forced herself to sit up, and kicked her legs over the edge of the bed. Slowly, plodding, she made her way to the bathroom. The door was shut. Tom was in it. She hesitated knocking. She thought of how she wanted to confront Tom. But surely, confrontation was more of a nighttime thing. It shouldn't be expected of her this early in the morning?

The door opened. Tom, a towel wrapped around his waist, exited into the too-brief hall.

"Rose, you're home!" He was smiling

"Yeah."

"Big weekend? I didn't see you at all. Almost called your Aunty Muriel to report your absence-"

"No, it was nothing. Just a fun weekend with my friends."

"I figured," he nodded and smiled. Her brother. And half evil. And right now he just seemed so pleasant. "Anyway, I'll be late if I don't get going."

"Yeah, me too," she nodded, and so she stepped around him into the bathroom. Once the door was shut she leaned against it, disgusted that the sight of his bare chest had ever made her feel something before. He was her brother! Gross! So she drew a bath and tried to forget everything but the fact that she would very nearly be late herself.

****

That night, after the Rad Cam closed and she was forced back out into the streets, she found her friends, including Tandi, all grouped together.

"We were just going to get a drink," Alex said, pointing in the direction of their college, just a few short meters away.

"Sounds good," Rose nodded, tired from a day full of school work not to mention her weekend adventure.

"Really?" Tandi asked. "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't have _something_ to do tonight? Something _important_?"

Howard laughed and Geri followed this.

"Something important?" Howard asked. "Nothing that can't wait 'til tomorrow surely."

"I don't know…" Tandi intoned. "It's pretty important…"

"Psshaw," Rose said, not wanting to deal with this tonight. "It can wait 'til tomorrow."

And so they all headed out to the pub. Tandi glowered at Rose the whole time.

When it was finally time to go – again, the big topic was May Day, which was only two days away now – Tandi followed Rose home.

"We should talk to him," Tandi said as they neared the Botley house.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because it's easier for you to live in denial than to face what we're actually facing here? He's part Voldemort, and who knows when he'll strike next? We need to stop him!"

"But he's… A friend." She'd wanted to say 'brother,' she'd wanted to say it so badly. "I just can't… I don't want to ruin his life like that."

"He's ruined his own life. Or, half of him has ruined his own life. And the only way to save the other half is to talk to him now, to confront him, and to see how we might stop it. Rose, seriously."

They came to the Botley door.

"Well…" Rose stretched out the moment. "Here I am…"

"I'm coming in with you. We're doing this tonight."

"No! I mean- Do we have to?"

"Yes! Rose, come on! Grow a pair!"

And with that, Tandi reached around Rose and found the door handle. She twisted it open and soon forced her way inside. Rose was left with nothing but to follow here.

"Hello!" Tandi called stepping into the house. "Hello!"

Silence. Tom must not be home yet. Rose breathed an audible sigh of relief. And then.

"Hullo?" It came from upstairs. Soon, there was Tom, on the landing, looking down at them. "Oh, hi girls."

"Hi Tom," Tandi said. "Hope you don't mind that I'm here."

"Not at all," Tom said, skipping down the stairs towards them. "It's good to have you. Rose and I never bring guests home. It's nice to see a new face in here."

"Actually," Tandi said, just as Tom left the last step and walked towards them. "Rose and I have something important to talk to you about."

"Do you really?" Tom asked. "Should I sit down for this?"

Tandi looked over at Rose. It was a significant look.

"Actually…" Rose began. "I think you should."

Tom smiled gamely.

"Alright." He took a seat in Aunt Muriel's favorite chair.

"Tom," Rose started, "we're going to say some things you might not want to hear. But it's all for your own benefit. I swear. I really care about you. I do."

"This is sounding serious." Tom tried to force a laugh, but it just fell flat. He looked from one girl to the other. Rose and Tandi were both deadly serious looking.

"What do you remember of your childhood?" Rose asked, not knowing where else to start. "What can you tell me about your mother?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** In this chapter, we learn all about Tom and Harry tells Rose the only way he knows to stop what's coming.  
**Author's Note:** Sorry if this feels like a slap-chop of a chapter. I promise I'll polish it up later, I've just been really busy this week and will be going out of town for the weekend, and so wanted to get something up before I went.  
**Another Note:** This week's been busy because I just found out that my newest play got picked up for a nice (short, but with possibility of extension) run at a nice Off Broadway theater in January. Which is really exciting. And crazy. Because now I have a lot to do, quickly. But mainly I'm really excited about it. That just means that Hollow's Child has kind of gotten shafted this week as I've been trying to negotiate contracts and work out details and polish this script before it gets handed over to the actors who grow attached to even crappy lines if I don't change them now. But next week, for sure, I will be finishing Hollow's Child. By the end of the first week of September the whole story should be posted.  
**And Finally:** Thanks for sticking with this those of you who have been!

**Chapter 11**

"What do you remember of your childhood?" Rose asked, not knowing where else to start. "What can you tell me about your mother?"

Tom's face fell. For a second Rose thought she saw his eyes begin to glaze over, but then Tom squeezed them shut, and when they reopened, he looked like himself again. Only very upset. Rose turned to Tandi beside her and saw that she had drawn her wand.

"Tandi," Rose began quietly, "you should put that away-"

"No." Tom's voice was surprising. It was loud and steady, booming almost. "She should keep it out."

"Tom," Rose looked at him. She wanted to fight him on this, to insist that she trusted him, but she could see in his face that he did not trust himself. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Suddenly there was a flash of white light. Tandi had cast a binding spell, and now Tom was bound to the chair in glowing ropes. "That was smart. Don't look surprised, Rose. She did it for your own good."

"And… It doesn't bother you to be tied up?"

"Not if it'll stop me from- If you ask questions like that- I don't know what I become, but I can't stop it."

This all seemed surreal. Tom knew he was dangerous?

"Rose, you'd best start asking him questions. I can't keep him bound forever-"

"I can't answer your questions- You don't understand- I can't control myself, not at all- You can cast a hundred thousand spells, you'll still be in danger-"

"But I don't understand," Rose shook her head. "If you want us to bind you, if you tell us you're dangerous, but you won't tell us what you know, how is that going to work?"

"There's. Another Way." Tom's voice was becoming louder, and more strained at the same time. Each word was shouted, punctuated, forced out in tough breaths of air. It was as if he were choking by swallowing something in. "Memories. My. Memories."

Tom squeezed his eyes shut again. He held them closed for longer this time. And then he let out a yell, frightening, guttural. It was not Tom's voice any longer.

"Quick, Rose, get them," Tandi reached out her free hand, the one not holding her wand, and nudged Rose closer to Tom, who was squirming against his ropes now.

She had never collected memories before. She'd read about it, in theory and practice. It wasn't something they taught in school, she'd just found a book on the subject once and had remembered her Uncle Harry's Pensieve and had become determined to figure it out. But then her uncle had caught her and Albus with it and so he had locked it up in his study, saying it was dangerous and they didn't know how to work it right, and if you did it wrong you could get stuck or drown. And she still didn't know the right way. And she didn't have much time to figure it out. Tom was screaming now, a painful sounding scream, and his body was shaking.

"Rose! Now!"

She pulled her wand from her pocket and took two more steps towards Tom. He was flailing in his chair now making the binds look as if they were loosening. She stood as far away as she could and then stretched out her wand so that its tip just touched Tom's temple. And then she focused. She concentrated on what she wanted to know. And she knew that on his end he had to be concentrating on what he wanted to give her. Without this it would be useless, she could not force out a memory he didn't want to share. But she couldn't think about this. She just had to focus on herself now, on her mind, making its way down through her body, and coming out the tip of the wand. She thought of her wand as if it were no more than another part of her brain, a part she was just now accessing. She concentrated on the tip of her wand. Suddenly her brain felt very hot. She opened her eyes – she had not realized she had been squeezing them shut – and looked down her arm and saw the tip of her wand glowing silver, silver with the strand coming from Tom's temple and wrapping around her wand. She met his eyes. They were still Tom's eyes. And they were talking to her. They were telling her something. They were encouraging her, telling her to keep going, telling her she was almost there, so close, nearly had it, and then-

Tom closed his eyes and the silver thread snapped. Her wand went suddenly cold. But she had gotten it, she was sure she had.

"I've got it!" She cried. "I've got it!"

She pulled her wand back, to tuck it in her pocket, and just as she did she felt the room grow much colder and much darker. The ropes of light had shattered, gone so suddenly, and the room was black.

"Rose!" Tandi screamed through the darkness.

Rose could not see her. She could not see anything at first. Just black, and perhaps over top it the darker impression of where the light had been. There was a howl, and that howl turned into a hiss, a low, dark hiss, and the hiss sent chills down her spine. And then she saw it, the bright red light, glowing.

"Crucio!"

A flash of green now, and then Tandi was screaming. Rose still couldn't see her, couldn't see anything beyond the flashes of bright red light that kept moving, all over, as if they were only in the air, but she could hear her. And so she reached out. She found Tandi, shaking, screaming still, and she picked her up as best she could, dragging her really, with more strength and speed than she knew she had, she was pulling her towards the entryway. Through the dark, through the pitch black, with only the scream and the hiss and the flashes of red, she got them to the entryway and pulled out her wand and then they were turning inside out and her ears were popping from the pressure and the sudden silence and then, before she had even let out her breath, she was collapsing onto the doorstep of number twelve Grimmauld place.

****

Rose took a few more breaths and then pushed herself into a standing position. She had to lean on the doorpost to keep herself from falling over. Tandi was at her feet. Unconscious. What time was it? Rose wondered. It seemed like hours had passed, but she knew it must only have been minutes since they'd arrived at Botley and found Tom smiling on the stairs. She looked at her watch. It was late. But then, it had been late when she'd left the pub. And that now felt like eons ago.

It would be odd if she knocked, she realized, if she just showed up on her cousin's doorstep in the middle of the night with a cataleptic Auror and demanded to use the Pensieve. She knew her aunt and uncle would call her parents and probably send her along with Tandi to the hospital while they tried to solve the problems themselves. And that couldn't happen. She was the one who had to do this. She had to contact Albus. Albus would not prevent her from doing what she had to. He could let her into the house and into his father's study and she could use the Pensieve and see Tom's memories and maybe then she could stop the monster living inside of him. She needed Albus.

She didn't have an owl, and yet she needed to get her message to Albus, to tell him to come fetch her. She wished desperately just then that he had a mobile phone, but knew that he did not. Then it occurred to her, she could send a patronus.

Summoning a patronus was always difficult, even in the best circumstances, and being as shaky – she knew she'd fall if she tried to stand without leaning on the doorpost – as she was now would only make it that more difficult. A challenge. Back at Hogwarts she had loved challenges. She had been the first in her class to summon a patronus, in fact. And all she'd needed to carry her through it then was the happy thought of getting the best grade. She thought of receiving top marks this term and waved her wand. Only a thin wisp of silver air came out. She needed a stronger happy thought. She thought of her family, of her mother and father and brother all together. But the idea of her mother's infidelity and of her brother's being upset with her right now – she would take it all back, if she survived what was coming, she would gladly go to Hugo's wedding – made her falter yet again. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. At her feet she heard Tandi give a weak moan. She needed to do this. She needed to do this now. She thought about last night, about falling asleep in her own bed after hours of exhaustion, and she thought about what she'd thought of as she'd drifted off to sleep. She thought of Scorpius Malfoy. She thought of the winter dance, years ago, of kissing him on the infirmary cot. She thought of his fingers in her hair. She thought of him telling her she was beautiful. She flushed, embarrassed at the thoughts, and that made her think them twice as hard. She waved her wand again, swinging it so hard she felt her shoulder would snap out of place, and from the tip of it soared a great silver bird moving so quickly as it circled around them and then soared up towards Albus that its edges blurred and left wide swaths of silver trailing behind it. Rose watched it fly through the wall of the building and into what she knew was Albus' room. And then she waited.

At last, the heavy front door opened and Albus, dressed in his night clothes of red boxers – at any other time Rose would have stopped to make fun of the pattern of sardine tins upon them – and a gray t-shirt. He opened his mouth to speak, but Rose cut him off, bending to hoist up Tandi as she did, and stepping into the house.

"I need to get to the Pensieve in your dad's office as soon as possible." She was already pushing Tandi into Albus' arms. "And once I'm using it, and only then, you need to alert the Ministry. There'll probably be another attack tonight. If there hasn't been one already."

Balancing Tandi between them, they clunkily made their way up the stairs while trying to keep their footsteps as quiet as possible. Albus did not say anything until once they were securely in his father's study. Then he let his questions flow – What had happened? What did she need the Pensieve for? How did she know there would be another attack? Was Tandi alright? They kept coming… – but Rose could not hear him. She was taking it all in.

She had never been in her Uncle Harry's study before. In fact, she had never spent much time on the second floor at all as there were no bedrooms here, and no rooms of any practical use, she had thought. Which was foolish to think, she now realized. The room was not huge, but it was packed. Every wall was a shelf reaching straight to the ceiling, and every bit of shelf space was taken up with books and binders and papers and odd little artifacts, some of which she had never seen before and had no idea what their function was. There was a desk, floating in the middle of the floor, and a chair, and two red leather couches, one of which Albus was helping Tandi to lie down upon. Rose was not helping, though, because her gaze was no fixated upon the structure that stood in the exact center of the room: it was a great stone podium and above it hovered the shimmering pool of blue liquid that she remembered from her youthful fascination with it. This was the Pensieve. This was what she needed.

Still ignoring Albus, Rose walked straight up the Pensieve and raised her wand above it before tipping it down in. The silver strand sprung from inside her wand and began uncoiling into the glowing liquid. It spun down into the basin, unraveling down into forever. And Rose felt herself lean closer, to watch it as it spun, turning from glowing silver strands to inky black cloud bursts, way down there, down further and further, no bottom in sight, she leaned closer.

"Rose!" Albus' hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back. "What are you doing?"

"Tom's memories," she said, breathily, as if she had forgotten how to speak. "I need to see them."

But Albus shook his head.

"No, no, we need make sure Tandi's alright and then we need to tell my father, and then he can look at the-"

"No." Rose stopped him. "It has to be me."

"Why? Why does it have to be you?"

"Because- Because he gave them to me. He wants me to see them."

"It could be a trap! Did you ever think of that! We need someone qualified to examine-"

"No, it's not a trap, I know it-"

"You _know_ it? Something that you just _know_ again? Rose, this isn't real, _knowing_ things isn't just _sensing_ them, isn't just getting some _feeling_-"

"No, Albus, I know it. I know it because-" She hadn't wanted to say it, to admit it before, to implicate her mother, but now she knew she had to. "Tom would never hurt me. He's my brother."

Albus titled his head, giving her a confused look. He was suddenly stumped. And Rose took this opportunity, while Albus loosened his grip on her, before he could formulate his next thought, to pull away and lean once more, quickly this time, and dive, face first, into the Pensieve.

****

It was an odd sensation. As if she were made of smoke. Wafting down. And then she felt herself congeal. Her feet first, solid, and heavy, and pulling the rest of herself in, sucking herself up like a vacuum and encasing her once more. It made her feel very tight after having been so loose. And when she settled into it, it was only then that she realized that she was standing somewhere. A kitchen. With a pastel floor and bright yellow walls with large square windows. And through the window she could see the sun. It was morning.

"Please, sit down and eat, we're running late" a blonde woman, frowning, walked right towards her, and then right through her. She felt herself dissolve again and then resettle and she turned around just in time to see the woman put nudge a plate of food towards a boy just taking his seat at the kitchen table. The boy was small, with dark curly hair that framed his bright green eyes. It was Tom.

"I'm not hungry." Tom said.

"You will be," the woman said. And then she turned and looked away, towards the door. "Hal! Hal we're going to be late!"

"Well you don't have to yell," said a man, Hal, as he stepped into the kitchen.

"I wasn't yelling, I was only saying-"

"You were yelling. Don't think I don't know what yelling is-"

It was odd. She could hear them, she could understand what both of them were saying, but it was as if their voices were traveling through water to reach her. And they were getting blurrier with every syllable.

"Well you didn't hear me the first three times I called you-"

"You expect this will get me in the mood to visit your mother? You really think this is the way to treat me-"

"Don't you even say that! You're the one who demanded I set up this meeting-"

"She's always wanted to know Tom-"

"Yeah, she has, and you never wanted her to until you decided we needed her money-"

"So this is about money? Again?"

It was as if there were a fog covering her ears. She thought of her mobile getting poor reception. She took a step to the side and hoped it would help her hear better.

"No! It's about you not listening to me!"

It did not.

"Don't yell at me!"

She took another step.

"I can't do this right now, I can't do this this morning- Tom, eat your breakfast!"

The words kept getting blurrier, fuzzier, blending at the edges so that she had to concentrate to understand them now. It was giving her a headache. She took another step.

"Don't yell at the boy!"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

She was standing next to Tom now. And that's when she knew she was seeing this through his eyes – which she had always known, but now she felt it distinctly, the two people inside Tom. She was seeing this as him, even as his own self was becoming buried.

The two adults made no sense anymore. There was only the sound of static now. Loud. Over powering. It made her head ring. She clasped her hands over her ears to block it out, but it was no use. This was inside her head now, she could not stop it. She fell to her knees, and as she did she saw Tom, sitting still at the table, and saw that his eyes had shifted. He was not himself anymore. His chest was glowing red through his white cotton shirt.

"Stop it!" He stood and screamed and the noise all suddenly stopped and it became dead silent as a bright red flash emerged from nowhere and swallowed the yellow kitchen.

Then the red light was gone. She could hear sound again. Sound that she had not even noticed before. Birds, outside the window, cheeping up at the morning sun, the toaster popping up a smoking muffin, the sound of Tom's heavy breathing. The woman was laying on the floor, not moving. Hal knelt beside her. The sound of Tom's chair as he pushed it back and stood.

"Tom," Hal spoke at a whisper. "What have you done?"

She was smoke again. And moving fast. Blowing, like wind, at hurricane speeds, through time.

When she settled again, she was somewhere she didn't recognize. She knew it was somewhere hot. She couldn't feel it, but she could see it. Sweat gathering on Hal's brow as he ran up ahead, something glittering clutched in his fist.

"We're only doing what we have to do," Hal was saying through a haze. And he reached through her, Tom was behind her, and he grabbed for his son, grabbed his hand, and soon Tom was running along with Hal and she was running after them, whenever she got too far behind she could feel herself evaporate. The white noise was terrible. There were shouts coming from behind them. Tom turned, his gaze falling somewhere behind her, his eyes clouded and terrible, morphing, almost slit like in front of her. And then there were explosions and bright red light and then she could hear screaming and she could see Tom crying, and see Hal pick him up and start off again at a run.

"We need to eat, Tom," Hal said as they took off, as they got further from her, and she couldn't keep up as they blurred into the horizon and became nothing but red, hot smoke and soon she dissolved again.

When she settled again she knew immediately where and when she was. London. Her favorite playground. And there she was, as a child, right in front of her. It was disorienting. There she was at the steering wheel of the giant wooden ship in the park.

"Move out of the way," came the cold voice from behind her. Just as her younger self made the same move, Rose turned her head to look behind. There was Tom. Young Tom. And she remembered this now perfectly.

"Why?" Her seven year old self asked, not taking her hands off the steering wheel.

"Because I told you to." The sound was beginning to fade, begin to fade into the clouds of static.

"But I was here first," she was used to sticking up for herself, used to Hugo trying to bully her and used to not letting him, "it's my turn to play-"

"Move."

"No.

"Move."

"No! I was here first!"

"You're taking too long! I want a turn!"

It was almost inaudible. She recognized it only because she remembered saying it. And she remembered what came next, and she winced as she saw it, saw the red flash and herself thrown backwards. Saw herself hit the side of the boat. She watched herself scream and call for her mum and as she did the sound returned, clear and sharp, and became heightened as her mother neared. She heard Hal calling, reprimanding Tom, but Tom was not looking at Hal. Tom was staring straight at her mother. His bright green eyes, his own again, were staring straight at her mother and she watched as her mother looked up and returned his gaze. She looked sad, Rose realized.

When at last Hal, spluttering to explain, smiling in a way Rose had not seen him smile before, in a cloying and false way, in a way meant to instill hope that just did not, paused for a moment, her mother interrupted him.

"Your son did magic."

"I- Well-" Hal gave an uneasy laugh.

"I'm a witch," her mother said.

"Really? That's a relief then, isn't it? I thought we'd be bleedin' deported before nightfall, but- Not that what my son did wasn't very serious. I apologize, profusely. Tom's been- He's been going through a phase, lately. His mum passed a couple years ago and he's never quite adjusted- We're here on holiday, right now, to cheer him up a bit. The doctor recommended it."

Tom was staring past Hal and his bumbling attempts at charm straight at her mother. Did he recognize her? How had he? Perhaps because she had recognized him? Rose wanted to ask him, but she knew that wasn't possible, not inside the memory, and she already felt herself fading again, as her father and Hugo – had her brother ever been that small? – ran over. And the sound was fading, she could feel herself dissolving again, she could see the world blurring.

"Blimey! This is your son? You're sure? Looks just like a friend of ours, doesn't he 'Mione?"

"Like Uncle Harry," said Hugo's tiny voice.

And Tom watched them. And Hugo's voice echoed through her head, through the seen, became so large and so loud that all she could think, all that she knew was "Like Uncle Harry." And then she was no more than air again. Flying.

And she was in a dessert. And Hal was ahead.

"You've got to do this. We've got to eat, haven't we?"

And there were blurs again. And screams of pain.

And they were in a city, outside a building, and they were going into the building, and they were entering an apartment, and there was no sound at all except the constant buzzing and what sounded almost like a tiny cry underneath it. But the cry couldn't be distinguished, she couldn't make it out enough to say that it was really there, and then there was a bright flash of red and she was gone again.

She was in New York. She recognized it. She was in New York and Tom was crying. There were bodies. And Hal was standing over him.

"You did what you had to do-"

"But I don't remember doing it-"

"You did what you had to do, Tom, no use crying over it now-"

"But I don't remember doing it, how do I know that it's what I had to do if I don't know why-"

"Shhh." Hal was patting his back, kneeling down beside him.

"I'm hurting people-"

"Only when you have to. We have to eat, Tom."

"I don't want to hurt people. I'm tired. I'm done. I want to stop. I want to settle. I want to understand myself and remember. I- I just want to remember."

"Shhh." Hal said. "Don't be silly."

And Hal stood and moved away. And as he did the edges which she had not known were blurred suddenly became sharp and she suddenly saw where she was. She was in a museum. She was in the Neue. She recognized the paintings. Kokoschka's half living, half dead portraits were staring down at Tom. They were waving to him, their eyes widening, their hands reaching out, welcoming him in. And he was sniffling on the floor. He looked up at the paintings. He met eyes with one of a woman and a man, disjointed, looking in two separate directions. It was not like the others, this painting. It was soft. The colors were bright. The people were alive. The woman, her curly hair wisping around her face, smiled at Tom. She outstretched her arm towards him. Tom stood. He walked towards the painting, until he was right up against it. He stared into it. He stared into the woman's face. And then with the back of his sleeve he wiped the tears from his eyes.

As Tom opened his mouth to talk, Rose was becoming mist again, rolling through time, everything passing by her in flashes. Bodies, some still twitching. Handfuls of glittering stones. New People. Paintings. Pages of books. Worn leather. Hal's face through fireplaces. Familiar jets of green light that made her stomach fall out and her head feel loose and relaxed, only it wasn't her head, it was Tom's. She tried to grab on to something. She tried to stay, to hold to it, to find the next memory, the next important memory. She saw herself in the kitchen with Aunty Muriel. She saw herself in the tunnel under the railway station late at night. She saw it, but she couldn't find her feet, she couldn't stay solid, she was floating past it now, rising, trying to grab on but unable as she felt herself lift up up up and-

"Desssstroy them. Desssstroy them all." It was the hiss. The same hiss she'd heard early, at the Botley house, when Tom had attacked Tandi. It was that hiss. She saw a flash, of Hal's face burning in green fire, he was bowing, bowing out, and red flashes, red eyes, the hissing sound. "Dessstroy them." And a picture, a picture like a memory within a memory of High Street in Oxford, of the square tower, of the bridge and crowds everywhere, filling every spot of ground, all heads facing up towards the tower, everyone silent, and then a flash of red. She saw it in a flash, but she could not stay, she could not watch, something was pulling her away, dragging her up, she was solidifying despite trying to resist, trying to stay down, trying to watch longer-

There was a hand, heavy and real, on her back. And she was coughing.

"Let it out, let it out." The hand was patting her, none-too-gently on the back. "Come on. It's always hard the first time. Especially if you don't know what you're doing."

It took a moment for her eyes to focus, as if she had to remind her eyes to look outside her own head. She was in the real, solid world again. It was her Uncle Harry who stood behind her now.

"Uncleharry," she said between coughs, forcing it out in one breath. She wanted to say more, but she didn't know what. She felt very strange and heavy, corporeal all of a sudden.

"Let it out." He patted her again on the back until her coughing stopped, and then he led her to one of the plush red leather couches and sat her down. It was the couch, Rose only barely realized, which Tandi had been on just moments before. Or had she? How much time had passed?

"Tandi-" she began.

"Is fine-"

"And Albus?"

"Is at the Ministry."

"At the Ministry? But-" Rose took a moment to let it sink in. "There has been another attack, then? The Minister-"

"Is safe, fortunately. Everyone is safe and accounted for. We were able to gather the troops, to warn everyone and have everyone on guard. Thanks to you, I understand." He was thanking her, but his voice did not sound grateful, exactly. It sounded upset, like a grown up lecturing a very stupid child. Though she supposed that was what was happening right now. "Rose, I need you to tell me everything that happened tonight."

Rose turned her head to look at her uncle. He looked so much like Albus. And so much like Tom. There were folds around his eyes, he was getting older, of course, but there was still something very young about her uncle. She had always appreciated it before tonight, how he had always been so approachable, always up for a game or a laugh, always so easy to talk to, but now she felt as if his restrained kindness was no more than a show. He was pretending to be nice to her, and when she gave into him, he would show his true feelings.

"Rose, please, I need to-"

"I'm not in trouble?" She cut to the chase.

"No, of course not, it's just very important that I understand-"

"And Albus isn't in trouble?"

"No, he's not, so Rose-"

"And Tandi?"

"Tandi is not in trouble either. Please, Rose, tell me what happened tonight. Tell me what you know."

She looked into her uncle's eyes, bright green, and knew she wouldn't tell him. Because what would he do if he knew? Arrest Tom? That wasn't right. Tom was his own son. And Tom wasn't guilty. It was that other part of him. It was Voldemort.

"Rose, please-"

"No, Uncle Harry, I'm afraid I can't tell you." Her uncle's mouth dropped perceptibly. He had not expected her to say that. "It wouldn't be right-"

"Wouldn't be- Wouldn't be right?" She could hear the anger rising up in him, and watched as all his pleasantries faded into nothing. "People are _dying_ Rose. Your friend was seriously injured this evening. This is not the time to keep secrets-"

"I'm sorry," Rose interrupted him, surprised that he let her. "I need to keep my secrets. This is my problem to solve." She paused. He was looking at her like she was crazy, and so she decided to amend what she'd said. "This is my problem to solve. This is my mission. I can _feel_ it."

At this her uncle gave a frustrated grunt. He would get nothing out of her tonight.

"I've called your parents. They're downstairs. To take you home-"

"No," Rose shook her head just as her uncle reached the door. "Wait-"

"Have you changed your mind?" His eyes were wide and eager. Could he really expect her to turn around so quickly? To tell him what she had not wanted to just moments before?

"No- I- Could I ask you something?"

Her uncle gave a defeated sigh and for a moment she thought he was just going to walk away. But he did not. Instead he looked at her face for a moment, deeply looking, as if trying to read something written upon it. Then he gave a slow nod.

"Yes. But only if I can ask you something in return."

"Alright," Rose nodded, accepting the deal. "Do you know anything about- About destroying living horcruxes?" She had expected her uncle to yell, or to cry maybe, but he did not. Instead he just stood there, stonily. So she continued. "I mean, if a horcrux is inside a person, or if a person is a horcrux, entirely by accident, and is doing terrible things, but wants to stop, how does one stop him? How does one kill the horcrux?"

"By killing the person," her uncle finally said, quite calm, but Rose was aghast.

"But I can't- Kill? But that's murder! That's just as bad as-"

"The only way to get rid of a horcrux is to destroy it, entirely."

"But- But…" She tried to find words, but none came.

"Now it's my turn," her uncle said once the silence had settled a moment. "Rose, is this mission of yours, is this something you were given, bound to, by someone else? Or is this something you have taken on yourself?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes," her uncle stepped towards her. "If it's something you've taken on, something you have burdened yourself with, then it is alright to ask for help. You don't have to do whatever it is you want to do alone."

"I understand," Rose nodded. "And I have asked for help. I've asked Albus and Tandi and-" And Scorpius Malfoy. But did he really count? Was he really a part of this? "-and, and we can do it. I know we can."

"But you're all so young, you don't know what you're doing-"

"We're older than you and my mum and dad were when you fought Voldemort on your own-"

"But that was different. I was- I was the 'chosen one' and all that- And I had the help of great wizards on my side-"

"Tandi, Albus, and I are great. Or we will be. When given the chance to prove ourselves-"

"No one is saying that you wouldn't be. I'm only saying that you don't have to go this alone. Whatever you are doing, whatever you think your 'mission' is, I can help you, we can help you. I've destroyed horcruxes before, I know what I'm doing-"

"No," Rose shook her head. "This is something I have to do. I know it." She wanted to tell her uncle that it was his mess she was fixing. Tom was his fault, his and her mother's. They couldn't help. They'd already created the problem. And now it was her job to end it. End it? Did that really mean killing Tom? No, it couldn't. It absolutely couldn't, she decided.

Rose tried to make herself as steady as she could. Her stomach hurt. Her head ached. And she was tired again. But she couldn't let that show, she knew. She'd have to contain it. She'd have to be strong.

"I don't want to see my parents," she finally said. She waited for her uncle to disagree with her, but he didn't. So she pressed her luck further. "And I need to see Albus. And Tandi."

"Alright," her uncle nodded. "I'll sneak you out the back way. Tandi's getting patched up at Saint Mungo's. You can join her there. And I'll send Albus to meet you."

"Thanks," she said, genuinely touched.

"I'm not- I'm not trying to encourage what you're doing. I just remember being there myself. Thinking I didn't need help, real grown up help I mean, thinking my friends and I could do it on our own. And we were lucky and everything worked out. But we weren't really as alone as we thought. And, just the same, I'll be here for you. And I know Ron and Hermione will be as well. As soon as you realize you need us. We'll be ready."

He did not look at her anymore. He was placing a lot of trust in her right now, she knew, and she knew he would never accept her thanks. But he understood, at least a little, he understood what she was feeling, what she had to do. He was walking towards a bookshelf. She wondered if he was going to give her some critical tome on the destruction of horcruxes when instead he simply found a slim book with his hands, gave it a tug, and then, suddenly, the whole bookshelf gave a great shake and started revolving. Behind it was dark, narrow passageway.

"This will lead you to the kitchen, it will spit you out at the pantry. From there you can use the fireplace and Floo to Saint Mungo's."

"Thanks." Rose said again as she stepped into the passageway. As soon as she did she could hear the bookshelf begin to rumble back into place. "Thank you so much."

Her uncle gave her a small smile as he disappeared on the other side of the shelf, still standing in his study.

"Good luck," he said. And then he was gone. And she was alone in the dark.

****

When she got to Saint Mungo's, landing in the Floo port as if she was just a normal visitor, she asked for directions to Tandi's room and was pointed right there. Tandi was sitting up in bed, fighting off a mediwizard approaching her with potions.

"I'm fine! I'm fine! Go treat some real patients!" Tandi cried, waving her arms and knocking the paper cup of potion out of the mediwizard's hand. Just then she looked up and noticed Rose in the doorway. "Rose, please, vouch for me. Tell them I'm fine. Tell them nothing really happened."

"She's fine," Rose said. She didn't need to say much more before the mediwizard, clearly tired herself, used this as an excuse to be rid of Tandi and rushed out of the room.

"They just keep babying me… Like I'm not an Auror – or nearly one – like I can't take care of myself." Tandi hopped out of the bed as she spoke. She was still wearing the same jeans and undershirt as she must've been earlier. The jumped she had been wearing, and her shoes and jacket, were piled on a chair next to her bed. Tandi began pulling them on. "So, what's the plan?"

"How do you know there's a plan?"

"Well I didn't get crucio-ed for nothing. I'm assuming you found something useful in the memories Tom gave you. I figure we have some sort of goal we're working towards now." Tandi paused to turn around the jumper she had accidentally put on backwards. "Oh come on, Rose, you must've learned something-"

"Yes," Rose said. "I have."

"Well… what?"

"I'm waiting for Albus to-"

Just as she said it, as if she had summoned him, Albus opened up the door and rushed into the room. He was breathing heavy, almost as if he had run the whole way from the Ministry.

"What's up? Dad told me I should come straight here-"

"I know when the next attack's going to be."

"What? When?" Tandi and Albus both looked at her eagerly.

"And I know what we have to do to stop it-"

"What?" Albus asked, cutting her off. "Do we need to get supplies? Should I alert the other Aurors-"

"No," Rose shook her head. "It's just us now. I told your dad that, that it had to be just us."

"And he said that was okay?"

"And he… He wasn't happy about it, but he understood." Rose paused. "There's a horcrux in Tom, Tom is a horcrux, I suppose, and we have to destroy it."

"And you told my dad that we didn't need his help? Even though he's destroyed horcruxes before?"

"Yes, because the way he said we had to do it- I just don't think that's right. It doesn't _feel_ like the only option we-"

"Alright, leaving details like that aside," Tandi interrupted. "You know when the next attack is going to be?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? When? And at the Ministry?"

"No," she shook her head. "At dawn. And at the Magdalen bridge. In Oxford."

"But…?" Albus looked stumped. So did Tandi for a moment. Then Rose saw as something snapped behind Tandi's eyes, and she knew her friend understood.

"It can't be… But that's…"

"I know," Rose said. "May Day."


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis: **In this chapter, the epic conclusion. Stopping Tom, May Day, islands, mystery voices, right feelings, and jumping off the Magdalen bridge.  
**Author's Note:** Again, maybe a slap-dash, but I needed to post something.  
**Another Note: **Sorry it's been so long since the last post. It's always so sad when real life business intervenes.  
**And:** For musical inspiration for this chapter I want to credit The Honeycutters. They are an amazing and very rare band from North Carolina that has been playing some great gigs in Brooklyn lately and that everyone should listen to.  
**Finally:** There's another note at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter 12**

"Mayday? Yeah, sure, but how does calling SOS help us?" Albus looked between the two girls, confused.

"No, May Day like the celebratory day." Tandi gave an annoyed sigh.

"Though I suppose 'mayday' like the warning is also apt," Rose acknowledged.

"Well it makes more sense than someone choosing to attack on a bank holiday."

"It's not just a bank holiday-"

"No, I suppose you're right. There are also fun fairs-"

"Albus, in Oxford, it's a big deal for all the Muggles to come to this one spot all at the same time- You remember Tom talking about it, don't you? About how people come to Magdalen and listen to the singers and how they used to jump off the bridge. It's a big deal. Most of the Muggles in town, in all Oxfordshire, will be there. It'll be- It could be-"

"It's not going to be anything." Tandi cut her off. "Because we're stopping it."

"How? You two had him bound down earlier and he still got away-"

"Yeah, but that was just the two of us. Imagine with all the Aurors it'll be-"

"No." Rose soundly cut her off. "We're not going to bring in anyone else."

Both Tandi and Albus stared back at her silent for a moment. Albus looked disgusted. Tandi was sucking in her cheeks, as if considering how to proceed, whether to speak calmly or merely smack Rose across the face. But Rose knew she was right. If the Aurors got involved, that would be it for Tom. They'd lock him up in Azkaban, forever. Or, worse, they'd kill him. And she couldn't let that happen. Because it wasn't Tom's fault. Tom was not committing these crimes. Tom was innocent. She just needed to figure out how to separate Tom from the villain living inside him. She was just opening her mouth to say this when there was a knock at the door.

"I- Who could that be?" Rose looked from Tandi to Albus.

"Probably my dad," Albus said. "Which means the jig is up."

"But he said he'd let us do this-"

"You didn't think he was serious, did you? We have to tell the Aurors, Rose. I'm sorry." Tandi looked towards the door and called "Come in!"

But it was not Uncle Harry who had been knocking.

"Am I interrupting?"

Scorpius Malfoy stood in the doorway, only half in the room, one hand still on the door handle.

"I-" Rose began, but confusion welled up in her throat and it took a moment for her to be able to form words. "Why- What are you doing here?"

Malfoy stepped fully into the room, letting the door shut behind him, as he gave a shrug.

"Well… I got your message."

"What message?"

"The patronus. The raven. It was yours, wasn't it? 'I need help. Come downstairs.'" She looked at him blankly. "So I went downstairs and you weren't there. So I figured you were in England. So I went to the hospital – Lennox Hill is the sister of Saint Mungo's – and used the direct link to come here. And I was going to go to Oxford to find you, but when I got here I saw your friend's-" Malfoy pointed loosely at Tandi "-name up on the patient's board, so I thought I'd check the room. And I've found you. Obviously. Which, I mean, you're lucky, because it was a bit of a snorcksnackchase. Really, you could've given better instructions. But it sounded important, so… What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Malfoy, I didn't send you any message."

Malfoy scrunched up his nose as if he smelled something repulsive.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't. I sent Albus that message. I told him to come downstairs, 'cause I was at his house-"

"Yeah, Malfoy," Albus sneered, "why would we want your help?"

But it occurred to Rose, just then, that she knew what had happened. She had been thinking of Malfoy when she'd summoned the patronus. And maybe she had been thinking of him too hard, because apparently the patronus had gone to him as well. Not that she would admit this. Ever.

"Look, I don't know why or how or whatever of this message or your coming here, but it seems to me like a stroke of fortuitous luck-"

"What?" Albus interrupted. "'Fortuitous luck'? What have you been smoking? It's Malfoy, we don't need Malfoy-"

"Well I'm sure glad I rushed _across an ocean_ to get here-"

"So am I!" Rose interrupted his sarcasm. "Really, Malfoy, and Albus and Tandi, this is good. Malfoy can help us now. He already knows what's going on, he can help us stop Tom-"

"Stop Tom what?" Malfoy asked. "Because if this is something you don't really need me for, I'd just as happily go home-"

"No, it's something really important. Really." Rose explained everything about Tandi and she confronting Tom, about Tandi getting hurt and her getting Tom's memories, and about the May Day plans. "So we don't have much time."

"Wait, but, hold on just a moment…" Malfoy held up his hand as a signal that she should pause. "Why aren't you just going to the Ministry with all this? Aren't there people who's job it is to, you know, do something about this?"

Rose could see that Albus was struggling not to agree with Malfoy.

"Yes, but… Albus and Tandi are Aurors and-"

"No they're not," Malfoy shook his head. "That'd be like me saying I'm a full fledged mediwizard. I mean, I'm getting there, but you're not going to let me perform open-heart surgery on you this afternoon."

"I'm about three weeks away from being certified." Tandi defended. "…though I do agree that if we brought the full force of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in on this we would be much better off."

"No," Rose said. "No, no one else will understand. It's not Tom's fault. They'll just want to kill him, but we can do something better. We can stop him. We can stop the attack. And we can help him-"

"And then bake cookies and all share a big bear hug?" Malfoy sneered.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to. You can go back to America and your job and your dumb girlfriend if that's what you really want-"

"Way to make this personal, WG." But Malfoy was smiling. He was going to stay, she knew. She just didn't know why.

"So… all we need is a plan. To stop Tom. Before tomorrow morning."

"Oh, well, that should be simple then." Albus was upset. Clearly.

"I acknowledge, it'll be hard. But we can do this. We know what we're dealing with, at least-"

"A horcrux?"

"Yes."

"We barely know anything about horcruxes!"

"But we know what we need to research and that's something at least!" Rose was cheering herself up, thinking of solving this problem in small, approachable doses. "So, Tandi and Albus, because you both have access, you two should delve into the Auror library and histories and find out everything you can about human horcruxes-"

"Or we could just ask my dad since-"

"Oh, yeah, run to daddy-"

But Rose ignored Albus and Malfoy and just plowed on.

"-and I'll go to Oxford and see what I can find out there. I'll check out Tom's office. Remember the day we traced him, he was doing something with invisible ink. Maybe some kind of communication with his father? His father is definitely in on this." She thought, with disgust, of the man who had pushed Tom to violence in order to get things that he wanted. He'd been using his child. It was horrifying. "So I can try to see if I can find out where he is now. See if I can get any information out of him."

"You're not going to Oxford by yourself," Tandi said, standing. "It's dangerous there."

"Well… Malfoy'll come with me."

"What?" Malfoy and Albus asked at the same time. Then they frowned at each other.

"I mean," Malfoy continued. "I don't have a problem going with you. I'm just a little suspicious about snooping around the office of a murderer who just performed the crucio curse a matter of hours ago."

"Way to show bravery there, Malfoy." Albus snorted, but then added. "I'm not really okay with the murderer stuff, either, but it's even wore that Malfoy's going. He's a creepy bloke."

"Enough." Rose took a step towards the door. "We don't have the time to sit here and squabble. We need to get going on this. So. Malfoy comes with me, Tandi and Albus, you go do research. We'll all meet up at noon-"

"Where?" Tandi asked. "I mean, just to be practical. We can't really meet at the Botley house-"

"And we probably shouldn't meet at my place, either," Albus said, "unless you want my parents buzzing around. Which you obviously don't. Even though that could be helpful."

"How about we meet on the Magdalen bridge? Then we can all see just what we're getting into."

"Sounds like a plan, then." Tandi nodded.

And with that, they all made there way across the hospital, to the disapparating room, and soon after, were gone.

****

Rose apparated herself and Malfoy into the Botanic Garden across the street from Magdalen college. She would've gone directly into the college, if that had been possible, but, like with all of the colleges, it was not. The only way to enter was through the porters' gate. It made Rose wonder if Oxford had once been on much better terms with the wizarding community. She'd heard the rumors about All Souls, after all. Of course right now this wasn't her primary thought. In fact, she wasn't even thinking exactly about Tom and May Day right at the moment. Instead, her attention was focused on the fact that she had accidentally apparated them into about two feet of mud.

"This is disgusting," Malfoy said, as he picked up his heavy feet one at a time and tried to wade over to solid ground. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"Oh yeah, I love getting covered in mud," Rose rolled her eyes as she pulled herself to dry land and pulled out her wand to clean herself. "I didn't know the gardens would be like this. They're closed right now, so I thought they'd be a safe place to come in at-"

"Gee, I wonder how a place as gross as this could be closed…" Malfoy said as he tucked his own wand back into his pocket, having just de-mudded himself.

"It's actually a really lovely garden." Rose said as she led them towards the gate they would have to climb over to exit. "In season, I mean."

"Sure."

It was true, it wasn't much to look at now. A lot of mud and weeds and brambles that needed to be cleared away. But in a month or two, Rose knew, this whole place would be filled with blooms. It would be really lovely.

Without her asking him to, Malfoy helped to boost Rose over the stone gate. It was not particularly high, and perhaps not particularly a good defense, and so it was not difficult to make their way out of the garden and onto Rose Lane. A street Rose always, narcissistically perhaps, liked. Malfoy noticed the street's name when they came to the end of it, and tapped the name sign with a smirk on his face before following Rose out onto High Street and towards the Magdalen porters' gate.

Rose, holding her Bod card in one hand and gripping her wand in her pocket with the other was ready to perform the confundus charm on the porters so that they would allow Malfoy in, but instead the porters merely waved them through.

"But- Why didn't they ask for you id? They always ask everyone."

Malfoy shrugged as he followed Rose into the great stone surrounded courtyard.

"I'm very pretty. People usually like that about me."

"You're very narcissistic."

"Maybe, but I must also be very pretty, because I didn't get carded, did I?"

Rose turned her head to look at Malfoy as the two of them made their way through the stone corridors towards Tom's office. His hair looked shiny. And he had a nicely shaped nose. She supposed he was pretty. Or something. But that still didn't explain getting past the porters. She had never seen anyone make it through that gate without showing ids. Not at this college at least.

"Here we are," Rose said as she turned down the hall that led to Tom's office. There was a boy, probably a first year like herself, standing outside the door.

"Hey," Rose said in general acknowledgment as she reached past the boy to grab the doorknob, trying to act as if she had full permission to be entering Tom's office.

"He's not in there," the boy said. "I've been knocking. I was supposed to have my tutorial this morning, but-"

"He's sick." Rose cut the boy off. "Very sick. Sent me here to pick up some things for him. He won't be in today."

"He usually sends an email if he's going to miss-"

"Too sick for emails. He just sent me-"

"And who are you?"

"His administrative assistant."

The boy looked at her blankly, clearly not believing her.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before-"

"Listen, mate, your tutorial's cancelled, you have the day off, so why not get out of here?" Malfoy stared the boy directly in the eyes. And the boy frowned, at first, but then took a step back, and nodded.

"Well, alright. I'll just email him this week's essay then."

"Good plan," Rose nodded, and finished turning the doorknob. The door was locked. Of course. But she figured she'd be able to open it with her wand, if the boy would just go away.

"If you're his assistant, why don't you have the key to-"

"Look out behind you!" Malfoy cried and gave the boy a shove to turn him around quickly while also pushing him down. The boy stumbled backwards and down, falling flat against the floor. It gave Rose enough time to pull her wand just barely from her pocket, whisper alohomora and tuck away her wand again as she pushed the door open. Just as she took her first step into the office, the boy was standing again, dusting himself off and glaring angrily at Malfoy.

"Sorry," Malfoy shrugged. "Thought I saw a bee."

And with that Malfoy followed Rose into the office and then swung the door shut in the boy's face.

"Annoying little git, wasn't he?"

"I don't know… I'd be pretty frustrated if my tutor didn't show up to a meeting."

"Yeah, well," Malfoy looked at her, "you're a nerd. Any sane person would be glad for the day off."

"I'm a nerd? What about you? I seem to recall you getting all Os in your N.E.W.T.S."

"How did you know that?"

"I…" She'd heard it from Clothilde, she suddenly recalled. "Well, you were always among the top in the class."

"But not _the_ top, eh?" Malfoy broke his gaze with her and walked over to Tom's desk to begin rummaging through the papers on it. "Now what am I looking for exactly?"

"Well… I'm not exactly sure. Albus and I know that he was reading something written in invisible ink before, so…"

"So I should be looking for something invisible, then? Well, that's motivational."

Rose rolled her eyes, pulled her wand and grabbed a piece of paper from the desk.

"Aparecium," she said assertively, but nothing happened. So she grabbed another piece of paper and did it again.

"Just trial and error, then?"

"Unless you have a better idea. Aparecium."

Still nothing. She was making a very neat pile of reject papers, though, and soon Malfoy was joining her. When they had finished everything on the desk, they began going through the drawers, and when they had finished with that, they moved on to the bookshelf.

"We're not going to have to test every single page in every single book, are we?"

"We might…" Rose said, looking at the looming bookcase and huge task in front of them before turning her head in either direction and seeing all of the many other books in the room. Then something occurred to her. She scanned the shelves 'til she found what she was looking for. It was sticking out, as if it had been just recently, and sloppily, shelved. _The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: Stories, Plays, Poems & Essays_. It was a rather large tome, but she felt hopeful, something seemed right about this. And perhaps she should go with this feeling. As she heard Malfoy sigh, she took the book over the desk, laying it down, and then, with her eyes closed, opening the book to wherever she felt she should. She opened her eyes again. The book was open to two poems, one on each page of the facing pages. One was "Magdalen Walks," the other "The Grave of Shelley." The second one was not especially cheery. Still, feeling confident, Rose waved her wand again. "Aparecium."

And suddenly, beneath the black block letters of the two brief poems blossomed the soft swirls of cursive written in bleeding red ink.

"It worked!" Rose cried, and Malfoy took the few steps to her side and leaned over the desk to look at the book with her.

"I wouldn't get too cheerful… Look what is says."

And it was true. The blood red ink did not exactly spell out what she wanted to see.

_I am one day closer to destruction. I can feel him rising inside of me. The monster will not be held back for long. Help. Rose, I need your help._

There was more, but for now, Rose stopped reading. She squinted at the pages. She had seen writing charmed before that could fill a blank with the name of the reader. She wondered if Malfoy saw his own name in the script.

"What do you see there?" She pointed at her name.

"I was wondering about that too…" Malfoy said. "How did he know you'd read this?"

"But you see my name?" She felt something well up in her. When had this been written? He had just assumed she would find it? The feeling, she thought, of assuredness, as she had pulled this book off the shelf, let it fall open to this page, had he somehow planned that?

"Yeah, of course I see your- Oh. You thought it was enchanted?"

"Yeah. But I guess it's not."

"Is that a good thing?"

"I'm not sure… I mean… He expected me to come here. He's asking me for help. He want this to stop-"

"Or he's laying a very nice trap."

"No-"

"I have to suggest it. Rose, really, you can't trust this guy entirely. I don't know why you're just so blindly faithful to some guy who you've known less than a year, who's only your flatmate-"

"He's my brother."

Malfoy was silent for a moment.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"And he's Albus' brother?"

"Yeah."

"So…"

"My mum and his dad."

"You didn't mention that before."

"No. I didn't." Rose paused. "I only just told Albus last night. He hasn't really reacted to it yet."

"Ah, well, takes time to adjust to I suppose."

"Yeah. I suppose."

As Rose turned back to the book, to finish reading the bloody letters, she felt Malfoy take her hand and squeeze it. She looked over at him again, but he did not meet her eyes.

"I'm trying to be supportive. 'Cause you have your weird family ties." Malfoy kept his gaze fixed firmly on the book while his hand stayed clasped with hers. "Doesn't mean anything."

"Alright," she said. And she squeezed his hand back. And looked back down at the book.

_I am one day closer to destruction. I can feel him rising inside of me. The monster will not be held back for long. Help. Rose, I need your help. If you've seen the memories I tried to give you, then you've seen what he has planned. I know only flashes of it, but it is terrible, and it must be stopped. The only way, so I can tell, to stop it is to kill me. I would take my own life if he would let me, but it has gone to far for that. Even to write these words right now and keep them secret from him is taking all my strength. As soon as I finish this I know he will retreat until it is time. He will be hiding. I don't know where, exactly, he is trying to conceal the location from me. There is a boat on a lake. And it is dark and secluded. Please, Rose, help me. Find me and kill me._

And that was all.

****

"A lake? Really? That's what we're looking for now, a lake? Oh, well, that'll be simple."

"Albus…" Rose tried to calm her cousin as they stood, with Tandi and Malfoy, on the Magdalen bridge.

"No, really, because that 'boat' detail really narrows it down. We're looking for a lake with a boat. Great."

"At least it's something," Tandi said, taking over for Rose who Albus was just going to continue talking over. "And he gave us instructions-"

"Not real instructions, though." Rose interrupted. "Because obviously we can't kill him."

"Is that so obvious?" Albus sighed. "Look, he's asking to die. And I am fine obliging him. And since he wants to go anyway, we may as well alert the proper authorities now and-"

"Yeah, because I'm sure the proper authorities would really love to hear about your lake/boat hunt." Malfoy smirked.

"What'd'ya mean?" Albus glared back at him.

"I think what he means," Tandi spoke in a calm, even voice, trying to regain control, "is that we've let it go a little far to just be fetching the Aurors now. And telling them that we're looking for Voldemort who is hiding out by a lake? It's a little… even 'farfetched' isn't sounding farfetched enough."

"So, and correct me if I'm wrong, we're now, just the four of us, going to try to locate a mass murderer and _not_ kill him before he explodes Oxford? This is a great plan."

"I still think we should put the Aurors on alert-" Tandi jumped in quickly, and kept going before Rose could interject "-here in Oxford. But I think we should try to go lake hunting on our own." She looked at Rose. "We don't have to tell them about Tom, exactly, we just have to say we got a tip about the attacker's next attack. It's just as a backup plan."

"Well…" Rose had to admit that it didn't sound like a bad idea to have some extra security around Oxford. "Alright. As long as we don't tell them about Tom specifically."

"Good. Agreed." Tandi nodded. "And as far as this lake goes… I think I might know where he means."

"Really?" Malfoy looked genuinely stunned.

"Yeah, well, when Albus and I were researching, I came up with a record about the locket, specifically, just a short blib, really, it didn't seem important at the time, but it talked about how it had been stolen from Voldemort's original hiding place, some cave, years before it was destroyed. By someone named R-something A-something Black-"

"Regulus Arcturus Black? I know that name," Albus cut in. "It's painted on the wall, in the living room, part of the Black family tree."

"Do you know anything about him?" Tandi asked. "The book didn't say much else, just that it was thought that he died stealing the locket. Which I suppose doesn't make sense, since how could he have died stealing it and yet still have stolen it?"

"Someone must have been with him," Rose said. "And that someone would know where that cave was."

"So now we're looking for someone who was friends with a dead man? Great."

"Wait, it could be simpler than that." Things were snapping into place inside Rose's mind. "Albus, Kreacher… he's been with your family for as long as I can remember…"

"Yeah, he's been in our house for generations. Must be coming up on two hundred now or something-"

"Would he have known R-whatever Black?"

"I mean… Probably, yeah."

"So we'll ask him if he remembers anything. My mum's always told me that house elves are really clever, have sharp memories, so there's a good chance that Kreacher might even remember the night R. Black died if it was traumatic enough."

"Well… I… I mean… It's worth a shot I guess?"

Rose smiled at her cousin.

"So, good, real good solid plans now. We'll all go to Albus' home and then we'll-"

"Malfoy can't come."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know," Albus shrugged. "Because you're an awful git who screwed over my sister?"

"Alright then…" Tandi sighed, clearly annoyed with dealing with the two boys. "Then, this is what we'll happen. Scorpius, you'll come with me to the Ministry where we'll leave some sort of time-charmed message for Mr. Potter. Albus and Rose, meanwhile, will go to Albus' house and talk to Kreacher. And then we'll all meet up… I don't know… Outside the visitor's entrance to the Ministry? Is that alright with everyone?" Everyone nodded. "Good then, let's-"

"Tandi! Rose!" The cry came from further up the bridge. There, just entering from High Street, were Howard and Geri, walking together, holding hands. Geri was waving at them, smiling broadly.

"Oh fuck me…" Tandi muttered, but then put a bright smile on her face as well. "Hey guys!"

"Hey! Didn't see you around today. You both ditched the morning lecture-"

"Yeah, it's been a tough day…" Rose said by way of explanation. Then she noticed Geri eyeing Albus and Malfoy. "Er, well, this is my cousin, Albus."

Albus gave a strained smile and a small nod.

"Hi."

"And this is…" Geri was looking straight at Malfoy. Admiringly, Rose would say. Much to Howard's disdain.

"Scorpius Malfoy." Malfoy reached out his hand, a movement Geri echoed. When they were done shaking Malfoy moved his hand over towards Howard, but Howard did not return the favor, and so Malfoy let his arm drop to his side.

"Scorpius Malfoy, eh? That name sounds familiar…"

"Oh, well, I'm sure Rose talks about me all the time."

"I don't." Rose said quickly. "Once, maybe, that was it."

"Ohhh." A look of recognition crossed Geri's face. "Scorpius Malfoy. Yes. I remember now." And then she giggled. Rose swallowed deeply and tried not to punch her friends in the face. "Well I'm Geri and this is Howard and we're collegemates with Tandi and Rose."

"It's lovely to meet you," Malfoy said, giving a charming smile.

"Yeah, lovely, really," Albus said, "but we really need to get going actually."

And then he just turned and started to walk away.

"I apologize for him." Malfoy continued to ooze charm. "He's very rude."

"Rude, but accurate," Tandi picked up. "We really do have to be going."

"Well, alright," Geri said, even as they turned away from her to follow Albus. "But will we see you tonight? There's going to be pub quiz at Hertford!"

"Er, maybe!" Rose called back as her body moved forward.

"Your friends seem nice," Malfoy said as they all reached the other side of the bridge and retreated down a back alley to apparate.

"You can quit the nice-guy act, Malfoy-" Albus began.

"And you can quit with the bickering!" Tandi exclaimed, and both boys went silent. "Now. We'll meet up at the visitor's entrance in… an hour… should we say? Rose, call on your mobile if you want more time."

"Alright." Rose nodded.

And then they went they're separate ways.

****

Rose was worried, at first, that her parents would still be at Grimmauld Place, waiting to take her home, but fortunately the house was empty when she and Albus arrived. Almost empty. Kreacher was in the kitchen, prepping for dinner.

"Kreacher, could we ask you a few questions?"

"Master Albus may ask me anything he likes."

"And you'll give us honest answers?"

"Kreacher would not lie to Master Albus."

"Good. Thanks Kreacher." Albus sat down on one of the benches at the table and Rose sat next to him. Albus patted the spot on the bench on the other side of himself, motioning for Kreacher to sit down. When he did, Albus began. "So, Kreacher, do you remember Regulus Black?"

Rose had definitely not been expecting what came next. Kreacher, who had been as cheerful as Kreacher could be – which was not exceptionally cheerful, but still – was now bawling, little squeaks about "Master Regulus was Kreacher's best master" and "Poor, dear Master Regulus" escaping from him between giant, snot filled gasps for air. It was a few minutes before they could get Kreacher to calm down again.

"So, then, you really liked Regulus Black?"

"Oh, yes," Kreacher nodded and blew his nose on the napkin Albus had handed him. "Master Regulus was the kindest and best master. Poor, poor Master Regulus."

"Do you know what happened to him, Kreacher?" Albus asked, this time prepared, and with another napkin at the ready should Kreacher need it. "I mean, do you know how he died?"

Again Kreacher cried out, but this time, perhaps he himself had been expecting the question, his outburst did not last as long.

"Yes, Kreacher remember how Master Regulus died. Poor, poor Master Regulus. Always so nice to Kreacher."

"Well, can you tell me what happened?"

"Kreacher can tell you, yes. Kreacher can tell you. Because Kreacher was there."

"There?" Rose interrupted. "You were there when he stole the locket?"

Kreacher, who generally liked to ignore Rose, now looked her right in the eyes.

"The Half-Blood knows about Master Regulus' locket?"

"Kreacher, for the millionth time, I'm not a half-blood, both my parents are-"

"Now's not the time to fight that battle, Rose." Albus turned back to Kreacher. "You were with Regulus Black when he stole the locket?"

"Yes," Kreacher nodded.

"So you know where the locket was hidden. In a cave. Or by a lake. Or something?"

"Yes, Master Regulus brought Kreacher to the cave. The same cave the Dark Lord brought Kreacher too. But Master Regulus drank the potion himself. And then they grabbed Master Regulus. They grabbed him from the water. And Kreacher could not help him."

Kreacher again looked on the verge of tears, and this time Rose understood him. Regulus' death had, indeed, been traumatic and memorable. She'd had no idea.

"Kreacher," Rose began, softly. "I'm very sorry about what happened to Master Regulus." At this Kreacher blew his nose, loudly. "Do you think you could take us to that cave?"

Kreacher looked like he wanted to shake his head no, but he did not.

"Kreacher will do whatever his masters ask him to do. Kreacher listens to his masters. The Half-Blood is not Kreacher's master. Master Albus is Kreacher's master, though, and Kreacher will do what Master Albus asks him to do. Even if it hurts Kreacher to do it."

"Kreacher, I'm going to need you to take us to that cave," Albus began. "Us and some friends that we have to meet up with. And once we meet up with them, I need you to take us all to this cave."

"Yes, Master Albus." Kreacher nodded. "Kreacher will do it."

"Thank you, Kreacher."

And then Albus stood, and Rose and Kreacher followed him. Then all three together made their way, careful for Kreacher not to be seen by Muggles, to the visitor's entrance of the Ministry.

****

As they had finished their task early, they'd had to wait a good time before Tandi and Malfoy joined them. At least it felt like a long time. But they may just have been because Rose was nervous. They were so close now, she realized. So close to finding Tom. So close to having to face Tom. And she still didn't know what would happen then.

When Tandi and Malfoy finally did emerge, neither looked particularly happy when Albus explained about the cave and Regulus' Black death there. Just as they were all grabbing on to Kreacher's arms, so that he could transport them, Rose looked over at Malfoy.

"You don't have to come, you know." He just stared blankly back at her. "It's going to be dangerous. And you're not an Auror. Or a relative of the guy we're finding. So. What I'm saying is, I wouldn't be offended if you chose not to come with us."

"Don't be an idiot, WG."

And with that, Malfoy grabbed hold of Kreacher's arm. And within seconds they were gone.

****

Apparating with a house elf – if it was called apparating, Rose wasn't sure it was – was a very strange feeling. While regular apparating always made her feel as if she were flipping inside out and back, apparating with Kreacher had felt more like she'd exploded into billions upon billions of pieces, and then simply come back together again, in a different location, the atoms of her body popping back into place.

Once Rose got over this very odd sensation, she began to look around and take in her surroundings. They were in the mouth of a cave, and outside the cave was a very loud and violent looking body of water.

"The lake is through there." Kreacher pointed to where a pile of rocks spilled down across the wall. "Only blood opens the doorway."

"Of course it does…" Albus muttered, but before anyone else could, he was pulling his hand from his pocket and then it was glowing as it made a small, shallow gash across the palm of his left hand. Albus rubbed his hand against the rocks, wincing as he did so, and then took a step back. The rocks fell out of place and revealed a tunnel. "Glad that worked."

They all looked down the tunnel. It was very dark.

"Well I guess we should get going." Tandi said, walking over the spilt rocks and into the tunnel entrance.

"Please, Master Albus, don't make Kreacher go with you."

Rose looked back at the old house elf. He was shaking. She had never seen him look afraid before.

"Yeah, of course, Kreacher, you can stay here. But if we need you, to get us out of here or anything, will you come?"

"Yes." Kreacher nodded. "Kreacher will do what you ask Master Albus."

"Great. Thanks."

And then Albus was following Tandi. Rose looked over at Malfoy, who was looking wearily at the tunnel. She was going to tell him again that he didn't have to come if he didn't want to, that it wasn't too late, that they could send him back with Kreacher, but before she could say anything, Malfoy was stepping into the tunnel. Rose took a deep breath, took one more glance back at the sea outside, and then stepped forward after the others.

Rose was not sure if the tunnel was actually long or if it just felt that way because their wand light refused to spread very far. They all stepped cautiously, afraid to slip on the wet and mossy rocks they crossed over. At last, they reached the end of the tunnel and came to the edge of a large, calm lake.

"I thought there was supposed to be a boat." Albus said. Rose looked over and was glad to see Albus smiling.

"Over here," Malfoy, Rose was surprised to hear him chipping in, called. She looked over and saw that there was a large chain descending into the water. Malfoy reached down and yanked the chain. It was apparently heavy. "I welcome help."

They walked over to him and began to pull, in unison. After not very long a boat appeared, rising up out of the lake, and getting nearer with every tug. Soon the boat was there, on the shore.

"I'll go in first," Tandi announced. "Just in case."

Rose followed her, and then came Malfoy, and Albus took up the rear. Malfoy and Albus being seated next together would usually have annoyed all of them, but this time neither of the boys seemed in the mood to bicker. Instead they all sat silently, in amazement, as the boat took off on its own and pushed them towards something unseen deep in the center of the lake.

Rose was breathing very heavy, though she was trying not to. What would she do if they found Tom at the end of this? She couldn't kill him, she knew that. And if Tandi or Albus tried to kill him… well, would she stop them? She felt, right now, that she would. It was just a feeling she had. And what if what they found was not Tom? What if Voldemort was at the end of this boat? What if Tom was long gone, buried deep within the monster. And the monster was too powerful for them to fight. What would happen then? With Rose's next swallow, she felt something warm brush her hand. Malfoy. She stretched out her fingers and interwove them with his. They sat, silent, in the dark, not knowing what would come next, and still she felt distracted, all of a sudden, and glad for it, giddy, her heart leaping and her the blood forming a blush underneath her skin, as she felt Malfoy's hand. It didn't mean anything, of course. It was just supportive. But right now she was grateful for the support.

At last the wooden boat neared something. An island, it looked like. In the center of the island was a pedestal, lighter, and from the center of it something glowed. For a second Rose wondered if it was a Pensieve that they approached. But she knew it would never be something so friendly.

They remained silent as the boat finally, gently, touched up against the island's rocky shore. Tandi, the increasingly faint glow of her wand only barely lighting her own face, turned back to them.

"Well, here we are, I suppose."

It was the wrong thing to say. Even as the silence was broken, by the first syllable, Rose could sense that something had snapped, something was broken now, and it would be repaired.

There was a low hiss – that hiss, again – and the crumbling sound of rocks being knocked out of place. Something on the island was moving.

"Wands up." Tandi whispered, amending her volume from earlier, as she stood within the boat.

The island was not very big at all, and Rose sensed that she would be able to see all of it if only that glowing podium were not in the center. The thing that had hissed must be behind that podium.

Another sound of small stones tilting into the water as the thing moved again. Rose stood too. Tandi tried, with her arm, to block her, but Rose circumvented her and stepped from the boat out onto the slate rock surface of the island.

"Tom?" Rose called in a quiet voice. "It's me."

Another hiss. Then, something beyond the podium moved, low to the ground, crumpled, as it were. Weak, maybe.

"It's Rose." Her voice was almost just a whisper. "Your sister."

The hiss grew louder, and turned into a laugh, a deep, throaty, laugh she recognized from the Pensieve. It was not pleasant.

"My sissster?" The figure behind the podium rose a little. "I don't have a sissster. I don't have anyone. I'm alone."

"That's not true," Rose rebutted. "You have me. You always have. And you always will."

Again came the laugh. And now the shadow behind the podium stood, not erect, but leaning still against the stone structure. It was Tom, but it wasn't at the same time. In the dim light his eyes glowed, a violent red color. The same color as the bloody glow coming from his chest, through the fabric of his shirt. His breathing was labored, as if he were very tired. But then he laughed again.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I don't."

She saw him reaching for his wand, saw it before she realized it, and so she pulled her own, faster than she'd ever known her draw to be.

"Expelliarmus!" Rose cried, and a red light shot from her wand and hit Tom squarely in the chest. His wand came out of his hand, went flying, down into the water, and was already sinking into the lake as Tom fell to his knees.

But still, he was laughing.

"You think that will hurt me? You think I need a wand? You think I'm mortal?"

He was on his knees, he was weak, she could tell, and yet he was still laughing, his words still came, boasting, as if he knew he would succeed. She wondered what caused his confidence, though she did not dare to ask. Instead, she took a cautious step towards him.

"Tom-"

"Rose!" It was Albus, who was stepping out of the boat now. "Don't go towards him."

But as Albus stepped out of the boat, his feet landed in the water with a gentle splash. Something about that splash, Rose knew, it was an awful sound. Something bad. But all there was was silence, silence, and then Tom's awful, echoing laugh.

Suddenly, a yellow-white, bone-thin hand reached up from the water and grabbed Albus' ankle. Albus, stunned, let his wand drop into the lake as another hand appeared and grabbed his other ankle. Both were tugging him down now, as more joined them, and Albus began to sink out into the water.

"Incendio!" Tandi cried, pointing her wand at the hands in the water. Some hands retreated, but more still came. Tom laughed.

Rose and Malfoy both followed Tandi's lead, shouting spells, fire bursting up around them, surrounding their small island, sinking down into the water, as they fought off the hands pulling Albus, now sunk up to his shoulders, into the black lake. Tom continued to laugh, but Rose could see, from the corner of her eye, that he was growing weaker, that he was falling back down again, his laugh interrupted more frequently by coughs and gasps for air. He was failing. Tom must still be inside his body, still fighting.

"The boat!" Malfoy shouted over the crackling of the flames, the moans of the deathly hands, and the laughs of Tom. "We need to give them back the boat!"

Rose met his eyes. She nodded at him. While Tandi continued shouting spells and the fire continued to leap from her wand, Rose stepped over towards Malfoy and the two of them began to shove, with all of their force, the boat off the island. As it left them, it began to sink, deep into the black water, until finally it was gone. And as soon as it was gone, the ghostly figures who had been grabbing at Albus retreated, as if following the boat. Using her wand, Tandi pulled Albus to safety. He coughed and gasped for air, sounding very much like Tom, nearly his twin in appearance, who now lay not five feet away.

"Well." Tom gasped between deep and desperate breaths. "Now. You're. Trapped. You're. All. Alone. Now."

"That's what you think." Rose said, thinking of Kreacher, just waiting for Albus' call. "But people who are loved are never alone. And you're loved, Tom. You are."

For a moment the laugh disintegrated. All that could be heard was the sound of Albus' panting, of water quietly lapping up against the island, and of Tom, sucking in air. It was a thick and heavy kind of quiet. Rose took a step over the shattered pieces of sheet rock, towards Tom. Malfoy reached out to grab her arm, but she evaded it. She wanted to step forward. She knew she should step forward.

"Tom. I love you." She looked down at the figure, smaller now, weak and cowering, flat down against the rock.

He lifted his head. His eyes weren't red anymore.

"Do it, Rose." He looked up at her. His eyes were pleading. "Kill me."

She couldn't even make words. All she could do was shake her head.

"Rose-" It was Tandi, but Rose threw out her arm, motioning for Tandi to be quiet.

"Please, Rose, it's the only way. I'm fighting- I'm trying as hard as I can right now, but it's not enough- I feel it- It's not enough-"

She looked down at him, her brother, her friend. Laying against the rock, she noticed now that he was bleeding. Tom must have cut himself, must have been trying to weaken himself. She wondered at it now. She wondered what her brother had put himself through. All these years. She could have been there for him. If only her mother had told her. If only… Looking down at him, she knew it, she could feel it. She should kill him. Every part of her was telling her that it was the right thing to do. And she couldn't do it. Instead she knelt down next to him. She reached out her hand and touched his curly hair. His curly hair, as unruly as her own. She smiled at him.

"Tom, it's alright, we're going to get through-"

His hand jetted out from under her, she felt it grab her, around her neck, fast, before she could back away. His fingers were tightening, and she was gasping, the world becoming lighter around her. Everything was blurring, as she kicked and pushed, her throat closed, the sounds she wanted to scream not escaping. He was on top of her now. His eyes were right above her own, and even as all the lines were blurring, as all the edges disappeared into white clouds, she saw his eyes, red and bright, meeting her own. She looked into those eyes. She looked deep into them. They would be the last thing she saw.

"Avada Kedavra!"

There was a bright flash of green light and Tom was being thrown from her, out, down, away, flying off of her, into the clouded black she could see. But the world was fading. She was dissolving. And everything was gone.

****

She was in a black dress. It hit her ankles. She looked very pretty, she knew. It was unusual. She felt very strange.

"Oi, over here," came a voice. It was a strange voice. One she had never heard before. "Rose."

"Yes?" She turned towards the voice, her eyes only just adjusting to this strange black. Everything was so dark. Even the light, what little light there was, seemed to be coming only in dark blues and greens.

When she finished her turn she saw a face, unlit, covered in shadows, but she could tell it was smiling at her.

"I've been waiting for you." The voice said.

"I- Have you? Really?" Rose took a step closer, curious. This was such a strange place. What was she doing here?

"Yeah," the voice laughed, easily, it seemed. "I have."

And she was standing right in front of him now, the voice. And she still couldn't see his face. He was a bit taller than she. She could feel that. But everything else, everything, was a mystery to her.

"I've missed you." The voice put his arms around her. They were very strong. The found familiar places, knew just where to hug her, without actually being familiar. She didn't know whether or not to lean into the voice. It all felt very odd. "But you're not really here yet, are you?"

"I don't know." Her voice was sensible and calm. She felt surprisingly reasonable right now, considering she had no idea where she was or what was happening.

"Go back, then," the voice said. And his arms were pulling away from her. Or not pulling away from her, exactly, as they were not pulling away, but dissolving, rather. Or maybe it was she who was dissolving. She felt like smoke, like she had in the Pensieve, and she was very sad, because she had felt so comfortable, she now realized, in the arms of the voice. It had felt very warm and very right and like she had just found something she had been missing for so long. "You'll be back." The voice said. "You'll be back when you're ready. And I'll be waiting."

And she was very sad to feel herself fade, to feel herself drift away from those arms. She felt very sad. She felt like she was missing something. And she didn't know what. And then she was gone.

****

She heard screaming. But not unhappy screaming. More like crowds cheering. It was very loud. It hurt her head.

Opening her eyes, trying to force them open, through the mist that had accumulated, proved difficult. It took a few tries, several good, solid blinks, before she clear the much from her eyes. At first what struck her was just gray. Gray everywhere. And then she opened her eyes enough to see that the gray was the sky. A pleasant gray shade. Optimistic. It was early in the morning. This was early morning gray. Later the clouds would spread and the sky would be a bright blue. And she was lying on the ground, staring straight up at it.

"Rose?" Albus' head was now blocking her view of the sky. "You're awake! She's awake!"

Others were crowding around now. Tandi, and Malfoy, and her Uncle Harry, and others that she didn't recognize, grown ups, all of them.

"Yeah," she said, feebly, hearing her own voice break. "I'm awake."

Her uncle laughed, a good, strong, friendly laugh. She'd heard a lot of laughing recently, hadn't she? She tried to think of it. It all felt so long ago. It felt like she'd been asleep for ages.

Slowly, her joints ached, she pulled herself up onto her elbows. Her range of vision now expanded, she looked around. It was familiar. She was in Oxford. She was in the Botanic Garden.

"Is it May Day yet?" She asked, her voice still cracking.

"Yeah," her uncle nodded. "Just five now."

"Oh." She said. Five. Five in the morning. Just about the time the festivities began. "Well, I better get going then."

She forced herself up further, until she was standing. Her uncle was staring at her in amazement.

"Where are you going?"

"It's May Day." She said, simply. "That's really big in Oxford."

She was walking, she knew towards the stone fence along Rose Lane. She heard cries asking her to stop, but none followed her. None except. Scorpius Malfoy was now walking along beside her.

"Need a boost?" He asked as they got to the fence.

"Thank you," she said, and she stepped into his cupped hands and pulled herself over the edge.

Out in the street, she could see edge of the crowd, enormous. She walked towards it. Though she didn't turn her head, she knew Malfoy was walking behind her.

She pushed her way through the crowds. High Street was jammed with people. Drunk people, happy people, singing people, cheering people, everyone celebrating. It made her smile. And then the crowd fell silent. Very suddenly. And still she pushed forward. Voices, angelic voices, came from above her. The Magdalen children's choir was singing, she knew, from the bell tower. And it was very nice sounding, but she did not stop to listen, instead she was plowing her way forwards, towards where she knew she needed to go.

"Rose," Malfoy said as he flung his hand forward, finally a large enough gap in the crowd so that his fingers could find her, undisturbed.

"Scorpius?"

He came up next to her now. And he followed her eyes, she knew, she felt. He squeezed her hand.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "More sure of anything than I've ever been before."

"Alright then," he said. And he gripped her hand harder.

They both stood in silence, for a moment, listening to the choir sing, listening to those little voices echo off the old stones Magdalen and High Street. And then the choir stopped, and Rose smiled. With her free hand to brace her, she heaved herself, one foot at a time, onto the stone balustrade, and felt Malfoy do the same next to her. She sensed other people around her doing the same. And then she heard someone shout.

"One! Two! Three!"

And then she was throwing herself over, out past the stone, and into the open air, and she felt herself smile, broadly as she descended, fell, down, towards the water. She was jumping the bridge on May Day. It used to be a tradition, Tom had told her. And now it was hers.

She hit the water, cold and rough, with a hard splash, and when she popped up again, she felt alive once more. She was breathing heavy, soaking wet, and freezing, and she looked over, at Malfoy, whose hand she was still holding. She smiled at him. His silver eyelashes had water droplets hanging off their ends.

"Hi," she said, unable to think of something better.

"Hi," he said back, also smiling. And she felt him lean forward, through the water, felt the current between them change as his warm body pushed towards hers. And then his warms lips were pressed against hers. She raised her free hand, brought it up against his head, and pressed her fingers into his wet hair. She liked kissing him, she decided, just then. It was nice.

**Note:** Thanks everyone for reading! There will be a short epilogue coming! Soon! Because it's just so much fun to write that! Also, there is a sequel coming soon. And all the unanswered questions from this will be answered in that. What is Rose's relationship with Hermione now? Who was the mysterious voice she heard? Is Tom really dead? All this and more! Like time travel and other fun things! So tune in!


	13. Epilogue

**Title:** The Hollow's Child  
**Author:** Soy  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah I don't own HP. Whatevs.  
**Synopsis:** Just a silly little epilogue, because I always like epilogues.

**Epilogue**

Rose tugged at the waist of her dress, which felt a little tight. Fitted, her cousin Lily had called it. But why did it have to be fitted so tightly?

"Oh leave that alone," Lily said, knocking Rose's hand away from the corset before raising it again to play with her hair. "So do you feel different now? Now that you have a sister?"

Rose shrugged. She hadn't actually thought of Zoe as her sister yet. Though she supposed that's what the girl was. She wondered if her new 'sister's' name would be Zoe Weasley-Granger-Chang.

"We should probably get back to the party now," Lily said, tucking her own red hair behind her ears.

"Yeah, just give me a moment." Rose looked at herself in the mirror a final time.

"You look gorgeous! Is that a Clothilde original?" The mirror asked her back. Rose nodded. "Beautiful! Stunning!"

"Well… I suppose that should boost my confidence for the rest of the millennium."

"Come on, Rose," Lily was again pulling at her arm. "If you're worried about… you know… you don't have to be. I've been seeing Lawrence Montague for months now, so you don't need to fret about me."

"I wasn't." Rose pulled her arm away, and ran her hand once more through her short hair. "I was just… I don't know… This dress look silly!"

"No, it doesn't. It looks lovely. Really. Now I'm going out there. And you can stay in here if you like, but it'll be your loss."

And Lily disappeared through the door.

Rose wanted to go outside, she really did. She had been amazed at the way her grandparents' lawn had been transformed into this wonderland for her brother's wedding. There was large golden tent canopying the bulk of the green yard, and underneath that tent were several round tables, each laden with sparkling tablecloths, heavy silverware, and glittering butterflies flitting around floral centerpieces. And it had been a lovely ceremony. And Rose had not objected at that one point when the minister asked if anyone did. She had seen Hugo meet her eyes just then, expecting her to rebel, but she hadn't. If her brother wanted to get married young, well, then, he should. If he was that sure of his relationships than surely that was a good thing, and she could not hold it against him. No matter how much she wanted to.

As she'd been standing up there, serving as Zoe's only bridesmaid, she'd tried to keep a straight face as she'd looked out at the crowd. It had been difficult, with all of her cousins in the front few rows, making faces at her, trying to get her to laugh. Fred had been especially difficult to tolerate. And even he had not been the worst of it. Because there, in the back row, had been Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy, who had come all the way from New York City to be with her this day.

When her father had first seen Malfoy's name on the guest list he had caused a hissyfit until finally Rose had admitted that she had written him in as her date. Her mother, who she had not talked to, not really, in months, had stepped in and defended her choice of guest. Rose, not wanting to thank her mother, had simply walked away. But here they were, weeks later, and Malfoy had been in the audience.

Walking out into the yard where the reception was going on, Lily having just disappeared into the crowd before her, Rose looked around, hoping to spot Malfoy. She did not see him immediately. Instead she saw her cousin James, smiling and laughing and then deeply kissing Tandi. When James caught her looking at him he waved her over.

"Great show today, eh? Can you believe it? Hugo's married!"

"No," Rose shook her head. "I can't believe it. It's weird isn't it?"

"You bet it is!" James laughed as he slung his arm around Tandi's waist. "But then I guess we're getting to that point in our lives where everyone's pairing up."

Rose watched as Tandi gave a small, awkward smile. Then she laughed and excused herself, still on her desperate hunt to find Malfoy through this crowd.

"Rose, could I talk to you a moment?" Her father, now, was calling her. Rose knew, from what she had seen, that her father had had several glasses of nettle wine today. "About that Malfoy bloke-"

"Yes?" Rose asked, turning her head, hoping to spot Malfoy, and, if she did, hoping to ward him away from this particular conversation.

"Please don't date him. Malfoys are gits. They really are. Awful, awful gits-"

"Ron!" Her mother was suddenly at her father's side, grabbing his arm as he slid downward, clearly intoxicated. "How about we let Rose date whoever makes her happy?"

Her father gave an unintelligible moan and shut his eyes. Rose was half sure he was sleeping, right there, standing up. So it was just she and her mother then.

"Rose-" her mother began.

"No." Rose cut her off. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Rose, that's not fair-"

"Not fair? It wasn't fair when you didn't tell me that I had another brother. For years. It wasn't fair when you kept that secret-"

"Don't be unreasonable-"

"I'm not being unreasonable. I'm being perfectly reasonable. You're the one- You're the one who-" She had so many things she wanted to say. But she knew she wouldn't say any of them now. Not here. Not at her brother's wedding.

"Rose," she felt a hand grab on to her upper arm. She turned. Malfoy. "And Mrs. Weasley-Granger. Lovely wedding."

"Thank you, Scorpius," her mother said with an easy smile. Her father, still drifting downwards, merely grunted. "I'd better get him something to eat. And maybe some coffee."

And with that her mother was, carrying her father, disappearing back into the crowd.

"Rose," Malfoy continued. "I thought we might talk."

"Yeah," Rose nodded. They'd barely said two words together in person since May Day, over two months ago. He'd been back in New York, at the hospital, and she'd been busy finishing Trinity term. "We can go inside."

"Alright," Malfoy nodded. And so she led him into the Burrow, back where she had just come from, up the rickety wooden stairs and up towards the room – her father's old room – which she and Lily had set up as their headquarters.

As soon as they were alone, Malfoy leaned over and kissed her.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," he said, smiling.

"Me too," she said, and she leaned forward and kissed him back.

"I get the feeling your dad doesn't like me much." Malfoy said when they'd broken apart again.

"Really? And what makes you say that?"

They both laughed, a little, but then Malfoy turned away, and looked towards the floor.

"I- I should tell you. I found something."

"What'd'ya mean?" She did not like the look on his face.

"I've been keeping tabs, like you asked-"

"Uh huh…" She could feel her pulse pick up a little. Could it be?

"And something came up-"

"What? What something?"

"Rose, I don't know if it's anything definite, but…"

"What?"

Malfoy reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of papers, folded up together. He handed them to her. Charts. And figures she didn't understand.

"They're from a hospital in Japan." Malfoy said, as if that would settle her confusion.

"And what do they mean?" She couldn't understand anything on them.

"They mean that, well, unless there's another living Voldemort horcrux out there, then this is him. They're weird numbers, these."

She looked at the charts again, trying to will them to unpuzzle themselves for her.

"So… He's alive then?"

"Pretty much. I guess so, I mean."

"And he's in Japan?" Her heart was beating very quickly.

"Probably not. I'm keeping track, but only of information that's gone public. I found these in the proposed schedule for a conference. Someone's trying to make a case study out of them. Which isn't a bad idea, really, they're very odd figures-"

"So he's not in Japan-"

"Oh, well, I don't know, is what I meant to say. Just that this information's from early May. Just after… Time's passed. He's probably somewhere else by now."

She nodded. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

"He's alive, though, wherever he is." She folded up the papers and handed them back to Malfoy. "I knew it. I felt it. I just knew he was-"

"Knock knock!" The door was opening and Albus was entering. "I'd say 'sorry to barge in' only I'm not. Hugo wanted someone to check on you. Make sure you weren't doing anything awful in here."

"No," Rose rolled her eyes. "We're not doing anything awful."

"Well… Good then. Still. I think we should all go back outside. Zoe's gonna throw the bouquet soon. You'll wanna be there for that, right? At least to stop Lily from getting it. I don't like the way Montague is looking at her."

Albus did not move from where he stood in the open doorway, his head turning suspiciously from Rose to Malfoy and back.

"We'll be right out."

"I can wait."

"Albus…"

"Fine. I'll wait down the hall."

And Albus was walking away, leaving the door open.

Malfoy looked at Rose.

"What's got his panties in a twist? Sad that he's not dancing with Patrick Longbottom, is he?"

Rose looked at him, narrowing his eyes.

"You know about that?"

"Rose, everybody knows about that. Or they should. The two of them have been sneaking off together since fifth year." He saw the look of surprise on her face and laughed. "For a smart person you can be really dumb."

She reached out and playfully slapped him across the shoulders. Then, hoisting the skirt of her dress so that she could take a step without tripping on the hem, she moved towards the door. Just before she made it out into the hall, Malfoy grabbed her arm, gently, and pulled her back, into him once more. He kissed her again.

"Alright then," he said, when he had finished the kiss. "Now let's get back to this party where most people hate me."

"They don't hate you," she said as they walked together down the hall.

"Yes they do," Albus chipped in as they came up to him.

Together, the three of them made their way downstairs and back out into the yard.

It really was a lovely day, Rose thought. A really lovely day.

Too bad things wouldn't stay this nice for long. She knew. She just felt it. Something big was coming.

**Note: **Thanks for reading everyone! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. A sequel, "The Lion's Star," will be coming soon!


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